


Tap to Reveal

by Serinah



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Vol3
Genre: Angst and Feels, Black Mirror AU, Black Mirror ep4 s4, Comic Book Science, Dating, Gaslighting, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Kink, More Hurt Than Comfort, Mutual Pining, POV Tony Stark, Secret Identity, Torture, form of brainwashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah
Summary: An old friend turns up and asks Tony for a favour. Testing out equipment that Ty Stone has problems with sounds like a time-consuming and invasive endeavor, but of course, Tony agrees to be shot up with an implant and date whoever the Disc chooses for him, nevermind that there's only one person he really wants. Besides, who would say no a string of prearranged dates with beautiful people?But then, the first date is with Steve Rogers, Tony's best friend.





	Tap to Reveal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hundredthousands](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hundredthousands/gifts).



> This work was written for Cap/IronMan Reverse Big Bang 2018 and I had a pleasure of writing for the art of amazing **hundredthousands** , who cheerread and held my hand, and was wonderful in every possible way. :) You can find her art at http://hundredthousands.tumblr.com/ - please go at tell her how much you appreciate it. The art for this story is at http://hundredthousands.tumblr.com/post/173689884956/tap-to-reveal-by-serinah-for-the-2018-cap-im. Let her know she's amazing!
> 
> **About the universe:**  
>  As for 616 canon I’m supposed to be writing in, I thought - go big or go out, so this story has many silly differences from canon. Mostly because I’m a self-indulgent lazy sod.
> 
> **In short:**  
>  It’s set in vol3 and at the same time a mystical contemporary 616 where Ty came back, but DreamVision never happened. Like in early 616 everyone’s superhero identity is secret, but Tony’s is secret from everyone, because the Molecule Man fucked up. Or maybe there is no Molecule Man? Yes, that’s what I’m going with. Also, I’m pretending that Fujikawa takeover never happened and Tony and Ru never met, so his company is still Stark Enterprises, not Solutions. Avenger’s line-up at that period is supposed to be Steve, Tony, Carol, Wanda, Triathlon, Vision, Jan, Wonder Man, Monica (as Photon) and Hank (as Goliath), but as my researching powers are flaky, I know very little about most of them, so I’ve tried to write about them as little as possible. If there is any OOCness, please forgive me and ignore.
> 
> **Very important:**  
>  Tony has a mechanical heart at this time which means that from time to time he has to electrocute himself to live. BUT: creative license is evoked for the port being flat and looking vaguely like MCU arc reactor, tho no light, because reasons. You will get it when you’ve actually read some of it or seen the Black Mirror episode. But you don't actually have to watch the episode to get what's going on, but it might be more fun if you do.  
> Explicit sex only happens between Steve and Tony, although, off-screen they both sleep with other people, so beware if that's a concern.
> 
> **EVEN MORE IMPORTANT:**  
>  Thank you for the spreadsheet: **Sophelia**.  
>  Thank you **wynnesome** for working out the name for the device, cheering me up and being an AWESOME beta, going as far as actually teaching me. Thank you also to **WhenasInSilks** for eternal WISDOM, MULTIPLE REREADS and believing in me when I didn't, and to **MsErmestH** for stroking my nonkinky feathers - I discovered that I had some. :)  
>  And lastly, thank you everyone on Discord who so helpfully explained all the things 616 and vol 3 (especially **Sineala** ) and acted as a test audience (looking at you, Silks!).
> 
> **N/A:** Found some typos and there might be more. I'll finish editing later tonight or tomorrow anyway, but feel free to point them out. :)

 

> **ö*Ö*Ö*Ö*ö**

 

“That's it then?” Tony slid down Ty’s office desk and rubbed at his neck behind his left ear where the implant had just been embedded under his skin.

 

“You're golden.” Ty grinned and clapped Tony's shoulder.

 

“So, how does it feel to be on the Fortune 500 list? The brain behind ‘cracking the code for love‘? Becoming the most eligible bachelor of the year and all that?“

 

Tony pocketed a round device, inventively called the Disc, while Ty went about putting the implant gun away.

 

“Well, I think you should know the answers to at least two of those questions.“

 

Tony laughed. “Love is still a mystery to me.“

 

“It's all in the data. The implant reads your emotions as the Disc guides you through a series of dates, some of which will turn into relationships-”

 

“Yeah, you told me all that. Predetermined length, cohabitation for gathering data, not always due to a real compatibility, and don't forget the glitches-”

 

“That's a privileged information told in confidence -“

 

Tony raised his hands placatingly. “And I'll do my best to investigate them with utmost discretion. Promise.“

 

He perched on the arm of the chair in front of the desk, which Ty was now leaning against. “I’m really grateful that you agreed to do this, Tony. I-”

 

Tony didn’t let him finish. “Even though you didn’t tell me the nature of the glitches, I’ll do my best. I’m guessing that not all of the matched pairs that reached the five year mark were-?”

 

“I promise you that everyone who’s matched is matched perfectly,” Ty hurried to assure him. “It’s not that. We didn’t falsify any-”

 

“Fine, I believe you. But there were some who didn’t make the five year mark, am I right?”

 

Ty sighed. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet that you'd figure this out on the first day.”

 

Tony couldn’t stop grinning. “So I’ll go on a couple of dates, make up a couple of spreadsheets, take a look at the code-”

 

“It’s not the code, Tony, stop pushing.” Ty shook his head, mock-resignedly, but then turned serious. “And it’s only a very small percentage. The thing is, no matter how we analyzed it, even after the fact, we couldn’t figure out why those relationships didn’t work out.”

 

Tony raised his eyebrow. “Mystery of love?”

 

“Haha. The process is scrupulous. It takes at least a year to find the best match. It’s not just filling questionnaires and palm-reading.”

 

Tony laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Ty. So, when can I expect my first date?”

 

“Well, that depends on how quickly you can provide data for the device to analyze.”

 

“Providing data, and how exactly should I go about that?” Tony rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. “Nope, don't tell me. I'll figure it out, no problem. I'm all about providing data, after all.”

 

Ty rolled his eyes. “Tony, you flirting with everything that moves is not providing data.”

 

Tony frowned. “Are you sure?”

 

They laughed. It had been years, but being around Ty was still fun; it had been ever since they were young boys.

 

*

 

It was six days before the Disc gave the first ‘ping’ to announce that he had a date that evening. Tony grimaced. He had asked  Friday to clear his evenings of official SE stuff, but he still had work to do. Helping Ty with this glitch in the system had potential to make his workload lag even worse, but it was just for a little while, right? Hopefully, Iron Man wouldn’t be needed through that period. Tony wasn’t at all sure what readings the implant would get while in battle mode, but at least it would remain private only for the program to analyse.

 

He glanced at the light blue display of the Disc.

 

“You have a date,” the Coach said.

 

“Yeah, got that. Who is it?”

 

“Cannot confirm until the meeting.”

 

_Then what good are you?_ Tony didn’t say, just noted the time and place displayed on the device.

 

“Fine.”

 

*

 

Tony dressed to the nines (alright, fine, he just donned a fresh suit and ran wet fingers through his hair) and set out to the restaurant. He wasn’t nervous; he'd made sure to flirt only with smart and beautiful people that week, and he hadn’t interacted with anyone as Iron Man either, so even if the system was somehow faulty, it couldn’t be that faulty, right?

 

The restaurant was dimly lit, and Tony took no note of the decor. He fished the Disc out of his pocket and looked around the room. Got whiplash and looked again. Was that- Steve? He froze, and after a moment, he noticed he’d stopped breathing. But surely, it wouldn’t be him? Tony thought back to the past week and breathed easier; he’d only seen Steve that one time for ten seconds. The Disc couldn’t have picked up on his attraction, surely? It was fine. He composed himself.

 

“Alright, lay it on me, Coach. What have you got for me?”

 

He looked at the display and swallowed several times, convulsively. Looked up at Steve again. Steve was looking back at him, just as shocked.

 

His legs felt rubbery as he walked to close the distance.

 

“Tony!” Steve stood, his face suddenly lit up, radiant.

 

Tony smiled back. “Fancy seeing you here, you on a date?”

 

Steve laughed while displaying his Disc.

 

They sat. Steve was still smiling, but Tony was starting to feel awkward; despite Steve being ignorant of his secret identity, they’d been good friends for years now and this was going to fuck everything up. How was he going to explain it to Steve?

 

“What a laugh, huh?” Tony grinned. “I mean, Ty told me there would be glitches, but to set up you and me, that’s something else!” He laughed.

 

“Glitches?” Steve frowned.

 

“Yeah, well, that’s a secret, don’t tell anyone. But that’s why I’m participating,” Tony went on, smiling feverishly, as if it were all a great joke. “Ty is my childhood friend - Ty Stone, he owns Viastone, the company that developed Dream Dating.” Under no circumstances could Steve realise just what sort of glitch this was.

 

“Good evening, gentlemen. May I serve you your food?”

 

They looked up at the waiter, who seemed to have materialised out of thin air.

 

“But we didn’t order anything,” Steve said, looking at Tony as if he expected Tony to know what the hell was going on.

 

“Your food choices this evening were pre-ordered by Dream Dating.” The waiter put the dishes in front of them. “Enjoy your meal.”

 

“Thank you,” Steve said, looking at his food and then up at Tony. “But could we have water instead of wine, please?“

 

“Certainly, Sir.”

 

Only now had Tony noticed the wine glass in front of him. “Anyway,” Tony went on, watching as their glasses were taken away. "Ty asked me to try out Dream Dating to help him diagnose some glitches. He didn’t explicitly tell me what they were, but well, it paired us up, didn't it?”

 

Tony chuckled, but when Steve remained serious, Tony felt a dark void opening up in his gut. “What?” he asked stupidly.

 

“Well, I thought…” Steve trailed off and Tony started to suspect that he’d done something really moronic. “Well, obviously there’s nothing romantic between us, but I mean… We do like each other, right?”

 

Tony blinked. “Right. Of course, I didn’t mean…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean that there’s no chance at a relationship. Because we are in one. I mean… friends, right? But nothing… romantic…”

 

Sometimes Tony felt like he was living in his own manhole-sized alternative reality where, beyond his cylinder, a totally different set of rules applied, and he always had to guess as to what exactly they were. And unfortunately, now Steve seemed to be cottoning on to the awkwardness of their current situation.

 

“No, of course not,” Steve hastened to agree. “Nothing romantic between us, but we do like and respect each other and that’s probably why the Disc paired us.”

 

“Right!” That must be the truth, Tony told himself and grabbed the glass of water that had just now been placed in front of him. “All part of the process. Because you’d probably have more in common with Iron Man.”

 

He laughed and Steve smiled at him a bit disbelievingly.

 

“Not that I would know, the way he only appears when there's a battle to be fought.”

 

“True.”

 

Tony took a large gulp. How awfully stupid would the Disc have to be to pair people up according to one-sided attraction? Any half-witted coder should have picked up on this kind of glitch.

 

“Tony?”

 

Tony looked back at Steve. “Wha- Oh, sorry. I was just thinking that if this glitch indeed pairs up people who are compatible in other ways, just not romantically...” - or just disregards the sexual feelings of one participant - “Then it should be a pretty easy fix, but Ty said that he’d checked the code himself, and he is pretty good.”

 

“And since when do you trust someone else’s reassurances about coding?”

 

Tony grimaced. “Well, yeah…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it. “Ty and I…  We’ve competed throughout childhood, basically. So I don’t want to make him feel…” He shrugged. “Ty doesn’t take well to insinuations that he’s worse at something than I am and he _is_ very good at what he does. The best really.”

 

“Just not as good as you.”

 

Tony shrugged again. “Nobody is. ”  

 

Steve grinned with what seemed to Tony like fondness, and for a moment he let himself bask in it.

 

“So…” Steve drew the word out and Tony tried not to stare at his lips too long. “Want to see how long the Disc predicts for us?”

 

Tony grinned, even though his stupid heart started aching again. “Yeah, let’s.”

 

They took their Discs out, but for some reason they both hesitated. Tony grinned at Steve. “On three. One, two, three!” He pressed his index finger on the designated area and kept grinning maniacally. Twelve hours. Through the night. Twelve hours - they were expected to spend the night together.

 

“Well, that’s…” Steve grinned, one shoulder twitching as if he’d aborted a shrug.

 

“We’ve got time,” Tony concluded.

 

“Right. Plenty of time for eating.”

 

So they ate and talked, and after a while it wasn’t awkward anymore. Steve told him how Jan had signed him up and how he decided to try it out. Tony was thrilled to find out that it was the first date for them both, and foolishly he started to hope that maybe sometime down the line, they'd get another date together too.

 

When they stepped out of the restaurant, it would’ve been natural for them to go back to the mansion and go their separate ways from there - he most probably would head to the workshop, and Steve would go to his studio or wherever he went to when he wanted to be alone. Or maybe Steve would go back to Brooklyn and Tony to SE’s R&D, if he were feeling particularly maudlin or had a deadline.

 

But it was Tony’s only chance to spend time with Steve and pretend that it was actually a date; probably his only chance of spending the night with Steve even if they didn’t really… For a moment he imagined leaning in and pressing his lips to Steve’s jaw. That would be crazy. He shook his head.

 

Tony had almost nine hours left, and he was going to make the most of it if it killed him. The end of the night probably would.

 

“Walk in the park?” was what he came up with.

 

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

 

“It’s not that late. Besides, a walk in the moonlight? What, not romantic enough for you?” He chuckled.

 

Steve grinned. “Fine, let’s take a walk.”

 

They walked for hours, their hands occasionally brushing, Tony soaking up Steve’s full attention like a sponge. When the dawn was close, without discussing it, they turned towards the mansion. The conversation flowed easily.

 

In the elevator Steve was still describing an altercation with a strange lady he met at the Guggenheim last week, and despite laughing, inwardly Tony felt strangely melancholy. He’d just have to resign himself to this being the best date he’d had in years and not even getting a kiss out of it. With Steve Rogers. Just a beautiful interlude to his otherwise mundane, even if busy, life.

 

All too soon, the lift doors opened and Steve stepped out. Steve leaned back in and, keeping his hand on the doors to keep them open, said, “You know, if you’d offered… I’d have slept with you.”

 

He winked and left, leaving a flabbergasted Tony to stare after him.

 

*

 

They didn’t speak of it after. Tony concluded that Steve had been joking, and had probably even forgotten about it by the next morning. It still plagued Tony though - what if he had offered? Would Steve really have…? Not as if it mattered now, but he still couldn’t shake the thought.

 

He didn’t tell Ty about any of that, of course. He regaled the initial awkwardness and that they’d spent great time together otherwise, platonically.

 

“I’m never going to let you live it down,” Ty said, chuckling. “You and that stuffy SHIELD agent! Prim and proper Agent Rogers - as if he’d ever look at someone like you!”

 

Tony grinned, even as he felt something already jagged inside himself rip apart.

 

*

 

Steve told Iron Man about joining the Dream Dating service the next time they saw each other after his date with Tony.

 

“That was unexpected,” Steve said. “Awkward at first, but it was okay in the end. We're friends,” he concluded.

 

_It was okay. It was okay in the end._

 

The best date he'd had in years. Possibly the best date he'll ever have. _Christ._ Tony had no idea what the expression on his face had been at that moment, but thanks to the faceplate, neither did Steve.

 

*

 

The next date gave him a redhead with a great rack, but with little else. Soon it became clear, though, that a big rack could go a long way too. He had her for five hours, so he didn’t stay for breakfast.

 

A week later, a guy (Colin?) he spent three hours with exclaimed, “If I’d known that Dream Dating would land me Tony Stark, I’d have signed up a long time ago!”

 

Tony didn’t explain that a long time ago, he hadn’t been a member.

 

By that point, Tony had been frustrated beyond belief, so a ginger (‘friends call me Ginger’) who ‘manipulated’ him into taking her shopping for the second date and expected him to pay for everything was simply too much. She’d done a spectacular one-eighty compared to the first date, and very clearly didn’t care that he’d seen through her goal. He left her with one of his giveaway debit cards and a kiss on the cheek, happy that the D (yep, that's what Tony was calling it) recalibrated the duration and he didn’t actually have to tag along with her to the shops.

 

So yeah, on one hand he had the comfort of the prearranged nature of the dates (Tony didn’t have to make up a pick-up line, choose a venue or event, order food, arrange transport, and the like). On the other hand, Dream Dating sent you in blind, and there were no guarantees that there would be any real chemistry, so it could suck even worse than traditional dating did. But, Tony told himself, it would pay off. In the end, the Disc would find him his best match. Statistics said so.

 

Unless he would be one of those for whom the Disc would glitch.

 

*

 

A month after his first date, he met Steve at one of the Dream Dating mixers. Seeing Steve, handsome as always, made Tony’s heart beat faster -- up until the moment he realised that of course Steve would be here with someone. So at first, he stayed away. It’s not like they didn’t see each other daily at the mansion. There were a lot of people, making it easy enough to get lost in the crowd.

 

But even after coming to that decision, he couldn’t stop following Steve with his eyes. Yes indeed, Steve had a date, yes it was a woman, and yes she was beautiful, with dark hair, regular features, and a pleasant expression. When Tony saw Steve leaning down to speak into her ear, for half a second his heart stuttered to a halt. It felt as if his brain was malfunctioning; there was no physical reason for the piece of technology in his chest to misbehave just because there were feelings involved.

 

About half an hour into the event, his own date (Claudia, twelve hours, so far the most common duration for him) left for the restrooms, so Tony caught Steve at the snack table, stuffing his face with sandwiches like he never usually did in public.

 

Curious and entertained, Tony snuck up on him and asked, “What are you doing?”

 

Steve startled, but when he recognized Tony, he grinned, seemingly genuinely delighted to see him.

 

“Garlic. Della hates the smell,” he replied mischievously.

 

(Tony wouldn’t mind garlic with his kiss if it was Steve.) They laughed and joked for full seven point four minutes until Claudia found Tony again and the introductions were made. Claudia was nice, and a fiercely intelligent woman; Tony really liked her even if she didn't make his heart thump in the same way that Steve did. But he couldn't have everything.

 

Then Della showed up and decided that Claudia was encroaching on her territory, which was as funny as it was tragic with Steve determinately munching on garlic sandwiches. Claudia didn’t deserve it, so very soon Tony had to make a tactical retreat, even though his heart was aching to stay.

 

Later that night, Tony comforted himself with the knowledge that even Steve had less than perfect dates sometimes. Or that's what he told himself he was happy about when he was lying on his lab table, a thick cable connecting his mechanical heart’s port to the generator, an unpleasant low-voltage current running through his taut, vibrating muscles. ‘Unpleasant‘ was the word he'd decided to go with, so he was going to endure it and think happy thoughts. Steve. Steve’s bad luck with Della. Steve’s impish smile. The way he looked after a successful battle with no casualties. Tony needed all the happy thoughts he could get.

 

*

 

Tony loved statistics. Unless manipulated, statistics showed exactly how things were. So after about ten weeks, while jogging on the treadmill in the gym, he composed a spreadsheet in his head. It looked like this:

 

  |   |   |   |   | 

**Percent by Category**

| 

**Percent of Total**  
  
---|---|---|---|---|---|---  
  
**Women**

|    |   | 

Subtotal

| 

6

| 

100%

| 

66.6%  
  
  | 

Slept With

| 

4

|   |   | 

66.6%

| 

44.4%  
  
  | 

Above Average Intellect

| 

3

|   |   | 

50%

| 

33.3%  
  
**Men**

|    |   | 

Subtotal

| 

3

| 

100%

| 

33.3%  
  
  | 

Slept With

| 

2

|   |   | 

66.6%

| 

22.2%  
  
  | 

Above Average Intellect

| 

1

|   |   | 

33.3%

| 

11.1%  
  
  | 

Blond

| 

2

|   |   | 

66.6%

| 

MISSING DATA  
  
  | 

Ginger

| 

1

|   |   | 

33.3%

| 

MISSING DATA  
  
  | 

Broad-Shouldered

| 

3

|   |   | 

100%

| 

MISSING DATA  
  
  |   |   | 

**Total**

| 

9

|   |    
  |   |   |   |   |   |    
  
**Duration**

|    |   | 

Subtotal

| 

$ **Total = 9**

|    |    
  | 

Less than 24 hrs

| 

7

|   |   | 

77.7%

| 

77.7%  
  
  | 

2 dates per week

| 

2

|   |   | 

22.2%

| 

22.2%  
  
 

They were all good-looking and most of them seemed smart, but there were no doctorates. Tony guessed that people with doctorates had no time for Dream Dating, which was understandable - he didn't have time for it either, but Ty had asked, and good friends always deserved the best Tony could give, even if it was little. Also, there was a good chance it would get him what he wanted, in the end. Or, who was he kidding, not what he wanted now, but maybe he would find something that was close enough?

 

Tony changed the settings on his treadmill and turned his mind back to the matter at hand.

 

He discarded age as a variable because they were all between twenty-five and forty, which was fine and not noteworthy (also probably explained the lack of doctorates), and didn’t take into account the number of hours they spent together if it was less than twelve hours, because a one-nighter was a one-nighter and there seemed to be no correlation between the length of the night and if they had sex or not. He also didn’t include the fact that the only man he got two dates with might have been a Steve-look-alike.

 

All in all, regarding the process, the main problem seemed to be, indeed, mutuality.  Because otherwise he had no idea why he’d only gotten that one night with Claudia - Tony thought they'd hit it off, but she probably had just been polite.

 

The thought rankled. Tony stopped the program and stepped off the machine. He grabbed his water bottle and a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

 

Why was he assigned considerably less time with the people he liked, and more with the ones that he couldn’t feel any real connection to? Everything happens for a reason? It sounded like such a bullshit slogan. And what reason would there be for being paired with total tools? The whole process was one giant glitch, Tony mused. Because even though the world around him often seemed like mystery to him, the parts that he could translate into numbers should  make sense. So why didn’t the Dream Dating process?

 

Or maybe it was just him, looking out of his alternate reality manhole, Tony thought, as he moved on to the weights rack. He’d always known he wasn’t very likeable when people looked close enough, but having it proven once again still hurt.

 

The issue might be that he didn’t particularly like anyone Disc paired him with for a second date because Tony was comparing them all to Steve. He did try not to, but the subprocesses were always running, and in that case, no wonder that no one could ever compare. It seemed that the Disc occasionally paired up one-sided crushes, but never more than once. No, he hadn’t liked Colin that much either time. Unless he counted the superficial...

 

At that moment, the elevator opened and Tony's pulse quickened. Steve often came to the gym at this  time. Was it him? He resolutely refused to look.

 

“Hey, Tony,” came, indeed, Steve’s voice. “Mind if I join you?”

 

“Not at all,” Tony replied easily, and determinedly finished out the set before turning to look.

 

Steve was already sweaty, clearly back from a run, so predictably he hefted up a punching bag and hooked it up.

 

“Do you know if Iron Man is coming by today? I wouldn’t say no to a sparring partner,” Steve said while wrapping his hands.

 

Tony let his eyes linger for a moment longer and turned back to his own thing. There were times when Tony almost hated being Iron Man, because when he wasn’t, he just felt… less. Why did people even pay any attention to him when he was Tony Stark? Money, influence. But why did Steve?

 

“He’s away for the day, but he might stop by in the evening,” Tony replied.

 

Why would someone like Steve Rogers even be friends with someone like Tony Stark? Looking back on their date, it seemed even more ridiculous now than ever that the Disc had paired them together.

 

For a moment, Tony considered changing seats to get a better view, but Steve was just at an angle to see him ogling if he chose to look Tony's way. _Yeah, no_. He turned his back to Steve again and started the next set.

 

“Looking forward to it,“ Steve said, probably bouncing lightly on his feet now. “If you see him, tell him I’ll be in the library.”

 

Tony heard him start punching.

 

“Will do.”

 

Sighing inwardly, Tony tried  to stop imagining what Steve was doing and get back into his rhythm. Did he want to spar with Steve? Yes. Did he have time for it now? No. Would he give into temptation to chat with him before bed? Probably.

 

Decisively, he turned his thoughts back to the spreadsheet. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he probably would have been into 44% of his dates if he hadn’t been hung up on the one notable exception he decidedly wasn’t ogling at the moment.

 

So. The mutuality. Some of them were clearly interested in his name or money or both, most of them in his body, but it was difficult to gauge how much they actually liked him. He could guess, but it wasn't anything he could put into a spreadsheet.

 

For his next exercise he would choose a machine with a view.

 

*

 

When he was five months into the glitch- and mate-finding mission, the updated spreadsheet showed that he had 76% male dates. 81% of them were relatively fair-headed and 65% relatively big, so when one evening he arrived at the restaurant only to see Ty grinning back at him, he wasn't terribly surprised.

 

“I didn't know you dipped into the pool you maintained.”

 

“I’m not a poolboy, Tony,” Ty scoffed. “I don’t ‘maintain’, I sample.”

 

Tony grinned. “Oh, so you’ve _chosen_ me?”

 

“Alas, Marc Antony.” Ty’s expression softened. “I go where I’m pointed just as your average Joe.”

 

Ty’s sincere smile never failed to warm Tony's insides. It was more impish than sweet, rather shrewd and sharp in comparison, but it was real. Tony was so glad his old school buddy was back in the US. “You’re anything but average, Caesar. I understand why you had to go, but I've missed you all these years,” Tony said seriously.

 

“Yeah, I needed a change after my parents… “

 

“Yeah.“ Tony understood. His own parents had died almost the same way only a short while before Ty’s. “So, want to know how long we’ve got?” he changed the subject.

 

Ty grinned and with flourish, took out his Disc. “On three. One-” They both tapped on the display.

 

“Thirty-six days!” Tony was impressed. “Not bad. That’s my longest relationship thus far. What’s yours?”

 

At that moment the waiter came to deposit the food in front of them and Tony was surprised by something he’d never tried before, but which smelled appetising.

 

Ty huffed. “I’m not sure I want to eat that,” he commented on his own dish. “Well, my longest was three months with Steph - amazing curves, sunny personality.” Ty’s smile went a bit melancholy.

 

Tony tilted his head in thought. “Do you miss her?“

 

Ty shrugged. “In a way. The sex was good. But it's not going to suck with you either. So I'm good.“

 

“You sure? I might be drastically changed, for all you know. The old ticker isn't what it used to be.“

 

“Right. Drastically changed, got it.“ Ty nodded. “You're also butt ugly, but that's nothing new. “

 

Tony burst out laughing. They bantered back and forth, discussed the Disc’s performance, and Tony asked to see the code.

 

“It’s not the code. I got what you said about mutuality the last time and I checked. In the code, that part is fine.” He seemed to be hesitant to offer anything more, but Tony gestured impatiently and Ty went on, “Maybe it’s just you? You like people who don’t like you? Have really high standards?”

 

Tony swallowed. He knew Ty wasn’t trying to deliberately hurt him, so he laughed it off and they went back to discussing other things.

 

*

 

Thank fuck Ty was very good at swallowing; there would be no spots on his clothes, Tony thought as they grabbed each other in the car. They were both quick, efficient and all done by the time they arrived at Ty’s apartment building.

 

“Come up?” Ty offered Tony a most lascivious smile. “You know you want to.”

 

For a moment Tony was tempted, but then he thought of the prototype waiting in his workshop and shook his head. “Sorry, scrumptious. Can’t.” He gave Ty a kiss through the car window. “Another time?”

 

“Sure thing, sweetpea.”

 

That was one good thing with Ty.  He always seemed so easygoing and they had time after all. Over a month. Tony had forgotten how much fun things were with Ty.

  


At the workshop and removed his jacket before grabbing the prototype he’d been working on the night before. It was good to lose himself in building new things.

 

Two hours before he was needed at the office, his phone alarm went off, and as if on cue, he felt his stomach growl.

 

The kitchen was quiet at seven in the morning, but there were  sandwiches and fresh bagels under a towel, porridge on the stove, and a full pot of coffee on the counter. Jarvis himself was probably doing chores somewhere. Tony just had to grab a mug to fuel himself up before work.

 

“You going to eat, too, or just run on caffeine fumes all day?”

 

Tony almost dropped the pot. “Steve!” His lips turned up with zero consent from his brain. “What- Oh, you’re back from a run? Should have realised.”

 

“You did.” Steve came closer and got his own mug from the cupboard and placed it next to Tony’s. “I’m also not going to ask you. You’ve clearly not been to bed yet.”

 

Tony grimaced guiltily. “Sleep’s overrated. Need to get to work.” He poured himself some coffee and turned to leave the kitchen, only to almost run into a plate full of sandwiches that Steve was holding out to him. “Yeah, no. Later, thanks.” He tried to sidestep Steve and the plate, but Steve stepped to the right with him, then to the left.

 

“You know I could outrun you holding a plate full of marbles without dropping any. Sandwiches aren’t even a challenge,” Steve said, deadpan. “In case you wanted to attempt a lap around the table.”

 

For the second time this morning Tony’s lips helplessly stretched into a smile. “Fine. I’ll eat.” He took a random sandwich from the plate and his gaze slid over Steve’s lips.

 

“Sit down, Tony.” Steve sounded as if trying and failing to hide his exasperation. “You don’t actually have to be anywhere in such a hurry.”

 

“How do you know I’m not on my way to the airport?” Tony asked, and contrary to his words, sat.

 

“I asked Jarvis earlier.”

 

“Twaito,” Tony muttered with his mouth full.

 

Steve busied himself at the stove, and when Tony was halfway through his sandwich, he came to sit on his right with a bowl full of grey sludge. At least he knew better than to offer Tony any, but he bet Steve’s mouth would taste divine even after the porridge.

 

When Tony finished his sandwich he moved to stand, but Steve put his left arm over Tony’s shoulders, effectively preventing him from getting up. Wordlessly, Steve nudged the sandwich plate closer to Tony. Incredulous, Tony turned to look at Steve, but the words died in his mouth and any derisiveness evaporated, because Steve’s face was so close Tony could count his eyelashes. Tony’s breathing hitched and his eyes dropped to Steve’s lips. He inhaled, looked up and the moment stretched. Steve’s chin lifted a fraction of an inch, Tony’s head tilted to the left-

 

And the kitchen door opened.

 

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Jarvis said and Tony jerked back, feeling cold all over.

 

“Good morning, Jarvis,” Steve replied as if nothing had happened, and Tony thought that it probably hadn’t. He knew all too well, he tended to misread people he was interested in. Because if Steve actually was attracted to Tony, then why wouldn’t the Disc give them a second date? That didn’t make sense. It must have all been in his head.

 

Embarrassed, Tony gulped down the last dregs of his second cup of coffee, and abruptly left the kitchen.

 

*

 

Ty was right - the sex was good. It always had been between them. Better than average, certainly, and at first, Tony was pleased that they would be together for over a month. No stress of a new partner every week, guaranteed quality orgasms - what’s not to like? But by the time their fifth date rolled around, Tony was getting annoyed, because he suddenly felt as if Ty was everywhere.

 

He didn’t have anything against good old Tiberius; they’d been friends for over a decade, but somehow, Tony felt like he’d either gotten old, or maybe he’d just forgotten how exhausting Ty could sometimes be. Around him, everything was suddenly a challenge, a joke, a competition.

 

After every date, Ty spent the night and came to breakfast at the mansion kitchen, and sometimes they spent the following day together too. After the sixth date, however, Ty just… never left.

 

*

 

The day was shit. Tony had just gotten away from three board members who had their own ideas about how Stark Enterprises should be run, and at least one of them had their own secret agenda.

 

Now he was standing in the anteroom to his office, reassuring Mrs Arbogast that the document, that was missing, was decidedly not missing because of something she did.

 

“I'm sure it'll turn up, Mrs Arbogast.“

 

“Things don't turn up on their own, Mr Stark. You go on, I'll get it to you as soon as my intern returns.“

 

Privately, Tony felt sorry for the poor girl, but refrained from commenting.

 

“Hey, Marc Antony, sweetheart.” Ty’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

He looked up to see his assigned boyfriend coming towards the desk Tony was leaning on. Lately, Ty'd taken up coming by at lunchtime to make sure Tony didn't work through it, which Tony knew he should appreciate. Instead, it felt stifling.

 

“Caesar,” he returned drily.

 

Ty raised his eyebrow, but didn’t comment. Instead he put his arm around Tony's waist and leaned in for a quick but deep kiss. Then he turned to Mrs Arbogast and said, “Have to take him out for lunch. Never takes care of himself, this one.”

 

He said it in a voice that would sound sweet to anyone who didn't know him better, but Tony knew what Ty’s affection really sounded like. Tony had no idea why Ty put on airs so much.

 

“You don't have to tell me, Mr Stone,” Mrs Arbogast agreed. “Go on, get some food into him, just bring him back in an hour.”

 

Tony flashed a perfunctory smile and directed Ty back into the elevator. “I was thinking Italian,” he said. “Unless you had something else in mind?”

 

Ty raised an eyebrow. “What the hell was that out there?”

 

“What?”

 

“Come on, Tony, don’t be pissy,” Ty said in a sharp tone that always reminded Tony of his boyhood days hanging around in the school labs with poor Mr Jefferson, who loved his mice to bits, but hated any living creature that had opposable thumbs.

 

“I take time to come see you,” Ty continued, “make sure you’re taken care of, and you greet me like this? What will your secretary think?”

 

“Assistant,” Tony said firmly. _Six more days, six  more days, six more days,_ Tony was chanting in his head. How had he forgotten what a son of a bitch Ty could be sometimes? Sometimes he thought that Ty had forgotten to tell Mr Jefferson that by accident the airtight seal had closed and that the mice would have to be retrieved as soon as possible, and then later lied his ass off about it.

 

“I don’t give a fuck what you call her,” Ty said coldly.

 

Clearly, Ty was still pissed, but Tony ignored it, opting to stare at the changing floor numbers instead. Six more days and then the Disc would pair him up with someone else. It would know very well what his likes and dislikes would be by that point. And in the end, there would be a near perfect match. Tony just knew there would be, if he just put up with this for a little bit.

 

“Tony,” Ty sing-songed, apparently deciding to change tactics yet again, and Tony felt a headache coming on. “Come on, don’t be like that,” Ty implored. He put his arm around Tony’s shoulders and squeezed. “Something the matter, my faithful vassal?”

 

Tony snorted. “Oh nothing much, my liege. Just a secret plot to usurp your divine place among the stars might be afoot. The usual.”

 

Ty’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

 

Tony tried to laugh it off, because it was the only way to really deal with Ty’s legendary mood swings. “Nothing. I’m just joking, my Caesar.” He attempted to smile.

 

Ty’s face formed into an answering grin complete with the eye crinkles, but Tony had a feeling that he'd pay for the joke quite soon anyway. He was right - the almost two-hour lunch date was full of Tony carefully sidestepping all the issues Ty seemed to have with everything he did or didn’t do, and by the time Tony came back to the office, he was ready to tear somebody’s head off himself.

 

And then Mrs Arbogast told him that Steve had come by to invite him for lunch.

 

For the first time during his reacquaintance with his long-time childhood friend, Tony felt that he actually might really, really hate Tiberius Stone.

 

*

 

The next day, Tony made sure to go to lunch early, and thumbed out a text to Ty about being busy and away from the office, to undercut any grounds Ty would have for showing up.

 

He'd tried a ‘being busy’ text once before, but Ty had still come, and Tony had been forced to go out with him to avoid a scene. Tony had chewed him up about it next time they’d been alone, but that evening… Ty had really inventive and covert ways of getting even, so Tony had to learn to pick his battles. Now he mostly put up with Ty when he could, and avoided him all the other times if at all possible. This time Tony made sure to leave before Ty had a chance of showing up, and damn the consequences.

 

If not for the Disc, Tony would've already broken it off with Ty, but everything happened for a reason, right? Tony grimaced. That fucking ‘process’. The end result had better be worth it.

 

Using his left hand to close all the windows on his PC, he lifted the phone to his ear with the right and hit the speed dial.

 

“Steve?” he said when Steve picked up. “I’m out to lunch. Want to join me?”

 

“Sure!” There was a smile in Steve’s voice. “Where?”

 

They met in a small diner, modest enough that Tony would've loved to say Ty wouldn't be caught dead in such a place, but the truth was, Ty was comfortable anywhere and any time. He didn't just fit everywhere, he made his surroundings fit _him_ -

 

And why was he still thinking about Ty? He turned to Steve.

 

“I heard you came to the office yesterday.”

 

Tony had this strange habit that he'd cultivated years ago. Namely, every time he was in the presence of Steve Rogers, he imagined how he would kiss him. It didn't matter where they were, or if anyone else was present; he still liked to daydream. He'd lean closer over the coffee pot in the kitchen at breakfast time; grab Steve’s sweaty neck to pull him down in the elevator after Steve had returned from his morning jog; he'd grab him before entering a gala venue in full view of the press. By now the habit of daydreaming was automatic, but what had felt comforting and pleasurable in the past -- before their date -- had now turned into an explicit torture.

 

Even though Steve was sitting opposite him, the table was small enough for him to put one hand on Steve’s larger one, and with the other pull him over their dishes, dip his head and- stop it, he told himself.

 

“Yeah. Thought we should catch up,” Steve, who was definitely not interested in Tony's lewd thoughts, was saying in the meantime. “You haven't been around much. Are you busy, or is Ty keeping you in his ivory tower somewhere?”

 

“Ha! Funny.”

 

It wasn't actually. Even though the tower was not real, it could as well as have been. It turned out that Ty had a compulsive need to know where Tony was or what he was doing at all times. Tony's first line of defense was automatically reverting to what he'd been doing for years: sequestering himself in the workshop and claiming to be busy. To his surprise it worked pretty well, because it was never a lie, and it was also something Ty knew better than to protest. Sometimes he just turned up with coffee or an energy drink, and always, always an offer of sex.

 

“I _wish_ I could lounge around in a luxury tower somewhere,” Tony replied.

 

Steve was smiling indulgently. “Busy with SE then?”

 

Tony shrugged awkwardly and for a second Steve’s gaze sharpened, so Tony quickly continued, “Just R&D, thankfully. Sorry I wasn't there when you came yesterday.”

 

“Not your fault. I should've called.”

 

Tony was done with this topic. “So what's new with you? How's dating?” Not that he really wanted to hear about that. But on the other hand, he _did_.

 

“The last one was Mark.” Steve grinned. “He's something, let me tell you. Funny thing is, he's a repeat.”

 

Tony raised his eyebrow. “A repeat?”

 

“Yeah. You haven't had any? I got him right after you, and now for the second time.”

 

Tony's heart started hammering away - there were repeats. There actually were repeats, second chances. He’d known that theoretically, but he’d never had one, and neither had any of his partners. But Steve, now, had. Same date but several weeks apart-

 

His synapses were firing all over the place again and ruthlessly, he squashed the thought. No point in stressing the heart over something that would most likely never happen.

 

He leaned slightly forward. “What can you tell me about the mutuality? How did it work both times?”

 

“Still working on that then?” Steve smiled. “I thought you believed in the system?”

 

“I do. Of course I do, the Disc works. I just wish I knew how _exactly_. It’s the process that’s faulty, I think. By the way, I saw some of the source code, and Ty was right. The part that concerns mutuality is flawless.” There was a lingering disquiet at the back of his head about it, but just at that moment, Steve’s foot accidentally brushed his. Tony blinked before continuing. “I think the receiver might be imprecise, or maybe it's the way the input is analyzed.”

 

“So what are you going to do?“

 

“Well, I do have an implant on hand that I can test.” He patted the area behind his ear.

 

“Is that safe? Maybe you should just ask Ty for a receiver that's not in your body.”

 

Tony couldn't completely hide how unpleasant he found the suggestion of asking Ty anything of the sort. “Or I could just build something safe to test it with.” He grinned winningly.

 

“Or ask Ty to see the code again.”

 

Did Tony imagine Steve peering intently at him? “Can't imagine anything I'd want to do less,” he said honestly. Some parts of his body still remembered the ache from the last asking.

 

They chatted on. Steve told him about liking Mark well enough both times, but somehow Tony thought that he was just being polite. All too soon, Tony needed to head back for the meeting, and without discussing it, Steve walked Tony back to the SE building. When they arrived, Steve put his hand on Tony's back to guide him in. Tony shivered and stepped away, but Steve put his hand on Tony’s arm.

 

“Tony.” Steve was very close and his eyes were piercing, full of concern. “Are you okay?”

 

Tony frowned in confusion. “Of course, I am. Why would you even ask?”

 

“You haven’t been around much and frankly, you look like shit. So I worry.”

 

Tony smiled softly. “You don’t have to worry about me, Steve. I’m alright. I’m always alright.”

 

Steve smiled ruefully. “That’s what worries me.”

 

Tony stepped back, chuckling. “What? Me being alright?”

 

Steve’s smile turned crooked. “Tony. Have you ever thought about getting out of Dream Dating?”

 

Tony felt taken aback. “What? No, of course not.” The idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “Why?”

 

Steve took a deep breath, but then shook his head. Smiled again. “Just wondering.” Something about his smile was strange, but Tony had no idea what. “Will you at least join the team for dinner tonight?“

 

Tony searched Steve’s eyes, but the answer wasn’t there. “I'll try,” he replied, smiling again.

 

The feeling of Steve’s touch lingered throughout the elevator ride, but then he shook it off.

 

*

 

Three days later Steve stopped turning up for meals, but it took Tony two days to psych himself up to ask. But only as Iron Man, of course.

 

“Yeah, I'm staying at my girlfriend’s,” Steve admitted after an Avenger’s meeting. “Her name’s Sharon.”

 

“Oh? That good?”

 

“Three months.” Steve paused for a second, looked around the empty conference room they were in and glanced at the closed door. “Listen, Iron Man. I’m kind of worried about something.”

 

Tony frowned and stepped closer to Steve. “What is it?”

 

Steve looked away for a bit, but then shook himself. “You’re not part of the Dream Dating, are you?”

 

Tony blinked. This seemed totally out of left field. “What? Why?”

 

“Ah,” Steve said quietly, almost like to himself. “That’s a yes, isn’t it?”

 

Tony stared a moment. “Why?” He couldn’t actually tell him, could he? The fewer similarities between his two identities Steve knew about, the better. Shit, Steve couldn’t find out. “That question seems a bit out of the blue.”

 

“Stop fibbing, Shellhead. I’ve known you for a long time, you know. So I know when you’re trying to blow smoke up my ass.” Steve looked away and scratched the back of his ear where his implant would be. “But it’s fine. I’m not mad that you didn’t tell me. Secret identity and all that, right?”

 

Tony nodded, uneasily.

 

Steve nodded back. “And how is it going for you? Dream Dating?”

 

Tony was confused. There were differences between things Steve talked to Tony about and what he shared with Iron Man. Why would he bring up Dream Dating?

 

“Fine.” Tony didn’t really want to elaborate. “It’s going fine. Why are you even asking about it?”

 

“Oh, no reason really. Just… Have you ever thought about getting out of Dream Dating? Cancelling the service?”

 

“What?” That again! Why was Steve- “No. Why should I? It’s working, isn’t it? Or-” Thinking of Steve’s three-month partner made his chest uncomfortably tight. Just a mechanical issue, he repeated to himself. He’d probably left it a bit too late and needed to get to his lab as soon as possible. “Is something wrong with your partner? Sharon was it?”

 

Suddenly, all the worry was swept off Steve’s face and he grinned as he started walking towards the door. “Sharon, yeah. No, we’re good. I mean, it's early days and all, but I like her, and they say that three months is good. As far as I understand, it shows compatibility. Tony says that the duration can change if it goes well.”

 

Tony grimaced, and didn’t tell him that the duration might increase  even if the relationship wasn’t going so well. Under his chestplate Tony’s heart was slowing down and his breath was becoming short.

 

“Well,” he said instead. “The motto of Dream Dating is ‘Everything Happens for a Reason,’ isn’t it?” They headed towards the balcony together because that was where Iron Man ‘left for home’ most of the time.

 

“Yeah.” Steve smiled easily. “Tony’s still with Ty, right?”

 

“Yeah.” Tony stepped out onto the balcony and looked at the cloudy sky.

 

“And what do you think of him? Ty?”

 

Tony frowned behind his face plate. “He’s... alright, I guess,” he struggled to answer. “They’ve been friends for a long time and the Disc paired them for a while. That has to count for something, right?”

 

Steve nodded, thoughtfully, following him out. “I hope so. Well, I’m real glad for Tony.” He smiled.

 

“Yeah. Me too,” Tony echoed with a hollow feeling in his gut, fired up and took off. He didn’t look back.

 

It was cloudy, and since the city never slept, Tony didn’t need to fly especially high before switching to a stealth mode and descending in a straight line down to the blind spot between two turrets on the mansion roof.

 

By the time he got into his secret elevator, he was feeling even weaker and dizzier than before. The elevator took him straight into his private workshop that no one but Jarvis knew about.

 

Tony almost fell out of the elevator, and had to catch himself on the wall. As efficiently and quickly as he could, he removed his helmet and neck guard, and then after dismantling arm parts, all the torso segments. For a moment, he leaned onto the fabrication table next to which the generator stood. Tony was panting; his chest hurt. He switched the generator on, heaved himself onto the table, and fumbled for the cable at the end of which was the generic plug that fit the port in his chest. Port. In his chest. God, he was a freak. What would Steve say if he knew? If he ever saw Tony like this? Ask him to retire from the Avengers, probably. Look at him with pity in his eyes, at the very least.

 

The cable felt strangely heavy in his shaking hand, as with the other, he tore away the synthetic skin disguising the port. He fell onto his back on the slab and couldn’t really see what he was doing any more, but that didn’t matter; he could do it by feel. All his eyes saw, was a blur anyway.

 

There. Connected.

 

Every slow pump of his heart reverberated painfully in his chest, and it took him long moments to remember that he had yet to switch the generator on. The power button was at the end of a cord mounted to the generator casing, where from long habit, he knew how to find it by feel alone. Trembling, he managed to raise his arm for just long enough to grab the base of the cord at its connection to the panel; it slid through his fingers as his hand fell weakly back to the table next to him, but his tenuous grip held. The button lodged into his palm, and squeezing with all his little remaining strength, he engaged the switch.

 

It was always a surprise when he felt the first jolt of the current. For a moment, his muscles locked and his back rose off the table, and when the spasm released,  tiny but powerful tremors still shook his whole body. Even his eyeballs felt as if they were on fire. Unable to concentrate on any particular thought, never mind finding a happy one Tony wished only that he could lose consciousness.

 

*

 

Tony was grateful for knowing about Sharon beforehand, because when Steve came by the workshop the next evening, as Tony wasn’t in the armour and had no protective cover in front of his face.

 

“So how’s your thing with Ty going?” Steve asked without preamble, stepping closer to the workbench Tony was sitting at.

 

Tony smiled. “It’s good. Going fine. There are some problems, but it’s a relationship. I mean, there’s always bound to be something if more than one person is involved, right?”

 

“True enough.” Steve’s grin was rueful. He stepped even closer and leaned over Tony to look at the steel model on the bench in front of him. “So how long do you have?”

 

Tony felt the back of his neck tingling and a shiver ran down his spine. He shrugged. “It keeps changing. About four weeks more now. Fifty-seven days all together if it stops there.” Steve had straightened up but hadn’t moved away and Tony held himself unnaturally still, so he wouldn’t lean closer to him accidentally. Or intentionally. “But I do trust the D,” Tony finished with a joke.

 

“The D?”

 

“Yeah, you know like the…” He turned his face to Steve and mouthed the word.

 

Still towering almost two feet over Tony, Steve frowned. “Like what?”

 

Tony noticed that he was sitting straighter as if unconsciously trying to get closer to Steve. “Like the…” He mimed along with mouthing this time.

 

“Like the…” At first Steve’s lips twitched, but then his brows descended in forced consternation. “Tony.”

 

Tony’s heart stuttered and he told himself firmly that it was just a mechanical issue.

 

“Yes, dear?” He batted his eyelashes.

 

Steve was so close to smiling that Tony could almost taste it at the back of his throat, but the moment was broken when the door opened to reveal Ty.

 

“Who are you putting your moves on this time, honey?” he asked sweetly, sauntering in.

 

_That_ tone. Tony grinned insincerely from his workbench. “On you honey, only on you. What a shame you already know all of them, though.”

 

Ty grinned back as if he didn't feel the emotional undercurrent and leaned down to kiss Tony possessively, holding his head in place. He ended the kiss with a bite and plastered himself to Tony’s back. Ignoring Tony wiping the blood off his lips, he grinned and turned to Steve who’d stepped back from the workbench and was now pointedly looking away. Tony felt like shit for making him feel uncomfortable.

 

Steve didn’t like Ty. He was trying to hide it, because he was a good guy, but Tony knew him well enough to tell. Thankfully, he was pretty sure that Ty had no idea.

 

“I saw you out with a stately blonde the other day,” Ty was saying to Steve in the meantime. “Something steady or just a one-nighter?”

 

They both seemed perfectly friendly. Tony knew better.

 

“Yeah, Sharon and I will be together for a bit.” Steve offered one of his ‘polte’ smiles and turned to Tony. “That's what I came to tell you actually. That if you don't see me around that much, that would be why. I already told Iron Man that I’m staying with her.”

 

When Steve left the workshop, Tony pushed his wheeled chair away from Ty and whirled on him.

 

“What the hell was that?” It was hard not to shout.

 

Ty raised his eyebrows. “What the hell was what?” he asked mildly.

 

Ty not taking Tony seriously was pissing him off even more. “You know what! That fucking possessive shit stops now! You might be my boyfriend for now, but you don't own me!”

 

Ty looked affronted. “Of course not. You’re blowing it out of proportion, Tony, darling. Look, I brought you this.” He held out a can of energy drink. “Thought you might need it by now.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Stop trying to placate me with gifts. I’m not a child.” He didn’t take the offered can and Ty put it on the workbench.

 

“Then stop acting like one,” Ty said in his ‘let’s be reasonable’ voice. “I’ve no idea where this is even coming from.”

 

“You know fucking well where it's coming from. You moved in without asking me, and as far as I can tell without the Disc’s prompting. Now you escort me to lunch every fucking day, and expect to be included _wherever_ I go. You constantly interrogate me about where I’m going, who I’m with, and when I’ll be back. I am absolutely _not_ okay with that.”

 

Ty stared at him for a moment and then his face flitted through puzzlement and morphed into understanding.

 

“Darling, it's okay. I get it, you’re tired.”

 

Ty came closer and tried to put his hand on Tony's shoulders, but Tony stood and stepped away.

 

“No. No, Ty, we're not doing that.” He thought of the long month ahead of him, and for Tony, despair often translated into cold anger. “You might be my boyfriend, but I'm pretty sure the Disc didn't actually authorize the cohabitation.” He set his jaw and stared at Ty, who looked a mix of amazed and livid. “I want my space back.”

 

“Tony,” Ty said in a warning tone, which made Tony's eyes narrow.

 

“I want you and your things out by tonight,” he said, standing his ground. “We’ll talk tomorrow about how this is going to work from now on.”

 

Ty’s assessing gaze slid over his form and, not for the first time, it made Tony feel like a bug on a pin. An ugly bug.

 

“Think about what you're doing, Tony. Do you really want to sabotage the Disc like that?” Ty warned. “I’m not sure what it will do in this situation. Might be unprecedented.”

 

Tony grimaced and decided not to think about it. First this battle, then he’d think of the big picture.

 

“Well, if _you_ don’t know…” He shrugged. “Frankly, Ty, I think the thing either must be riddled with bugs, or one of of our receivers must be glitching. Because you and I? It's not working.”

 

“Oh, don't say that, Marc Antony, darling-”

 

“I’ll finish building the implant analyzer by tomorrow. If mine is fine, we can check yours.”

 

For a moment Ty froze. “You’re building what?”

 

“I want to see what exactly the input is and how data transmission works. If it’s not the implant-” He swallowed, inexplicably uneasy about bringing up the code again. He stared at the workbench.

 

“Okay. Fine,” said Ty quickly. “You know what? You might be right.”

 

Startled, Tony raised his head to stare at Ty.

 

“It might be the implant. I’ll check mine out,” Ty acquiesced. “You don’t have to build anything, Tony. We can check both implants in Viastone’s labs in a couple of days, yeah? But right now I want you to go to bed. Okay? You’re tired. Sleep on it, alright?”

 

Tony stared at him, befuddled. Something wasn’t adding up, but Tony was too tired and too relieved to try to puzzle it out at that exact moment.

 

“Yeah. Sure.” He wasn’t sure when was the last time he slept. “Something’s up with your Dream Dating, Ty,” he said tiredly. “You should check out all your happy couples. See how they’re actually doing.” He rubbed his eyes. “No wonder Steve’s thinking about quitting the program,” he muttered and continued in a louder voice. “I’ll be down here, then you can move out later today.”

 

“It’s 8pm, Tony.” Ty’s voice sounded off and Tony felt himself blush.

 

“Oh. Right.” Thank god his blush generally didn’t show on his skin. He was a mess, though. He’d known it was evening when Steve had come by.

 

“It’s fine, Tony.” Ty’s voice was gentle. “You going to be okay here? You’ve got the sofa in case you want to take a nap, right? I’ll go get my shit out of our room right away.”

 

Tony gritted his teeth at the pronoun, but didn’t comment. “Yeah, good plan,” he said, instead.

 

A while later, Tony was still sitting at his workbench, staring at the device he’d been building. Unthinkingly, he took the can from his workbench, opened it and took a sip.

 

“Shit.”

 

He looked at the damn drink. The can was shaking in his hands and there were tremors in his body. It was adrenaline, Tony told himself. Just adrenaline.

 

Slowly, he put the can down and stood. Walked to his big sofa, and crashed.

 

Wakefulness came in waves. First there were vague lights and sensations behind his eyelids, pain in his temples and fingertips. Did he black out while charging? No. It was a dream, of course it was a dream - no pain in his chest. As the last vestiges of the dream evaporated, though, the ache in his temples intensified and he felt nauseous. Hangover? No, he hadn't been drinking since… what the hell had happened last night?

 

Ty!

 

His eyes shot open. He'd thrown Ty out! Shit, shit, shit, shit! The last time he had a big argument with Ty, the Disc had extended their relationship for a month. What the hell had he been thinking?

 

He sat up, and thought of going to the bathroom and putting this off for a while. Yeah, no. Bile rising to the back of his throat he could deal with; prolonging the feeling of dread wasn't his style.

 

He fished the Disc out of his back pocket. Sleeping on a fancy piece of equipment - another sound decision.

 

“Coach,” he voice-activated it. Tony closed his eyes. “What happens now?”

 

“Specify your question, please.”

 

_Right._ “I need to check for the expiry date of my current relationship.”

 

The device went ‘ping’ and the unchanged 29 days it was last time he checked was displayed. Tony sighed with relief, and raised his hand to rub his eyes, but abruptly halted when he realized that the number had blinked and disappeared.

 

“Recalibrating the duration. Please wait,” the Coach said and Tony almost dropped the device.

 

Fuck. How long now? How long would it prolong the torture? Or would it…? No. Good things didn't happen to him. Tony waited with bated breath for the number to form.

 

He jumped up, pumping his fist. “Five days! Yess!”

 

The number disappeared and Tony blanched.

 

“Recalibrating the duration. Please wait.”

 

“No, no, no. Stop shitting with me, Coach, don’t you dare…” His voice stopped abruptly as he stared at the display in disbelief.

 

“Current relationship status: unattached.”

 

For a long moment more he stared at the display, but then the adrenalin crash made his legs wobbly; he staggered and flopped back to the sofa. Then he just sat there, grinning so hard his healing lip broke open.

 

The day was a blur of elated activity. It was supposed to be a usual work day, but Tony was so happy that several people at the office mentioned it, and he didn’t even mind.

 

The worst thing was, he was itching to tell Steve, but somehow couldn’t make himself. It was silly, but he felt that if he did, Steve would see how happy he was to be rid of Ty, and that made him look… manipulated. Weak. So he didn't tell Steve, and when he heard the familiar ‘ping’ announcing another date, he sighed, resigned.

 

Tony didn't want another meaningless date, or a relationship with someone he didn't really like. What if he was past the short date phase and the Disc would only put him in long relationships from now on? Could the next one be even worse than with Ty? Tony wasn't sure.

 

He looked at the display: tomorrow, breakfast at a pancake house. Well, that was novel at least.

 

*

 

The more Tony thought about it, the more anxious he became. Breakfast implied no immediate sex, and since it was Saturday, the relationship would probably last at least over a weekend.

 

But what if it didn't? What if it was longer? And what if he didn't like them? Or what if he did?

 

At least the Disc always knew to book a table away from the prying eyes, he thought, as he walked towards the back of the room where the Disc had directed him. The pancake house was full of small intimate booths with high walls, and the table, marked with a ‘Reserved by Dream Date’ sign, was even mostly turned away from the rest of the room. Perfect.

 

Tony approached the booth with some trepidation, but he saw immediately that he was the first one to arrive. From past experience he knew that, for whatever reason, Coach wouldn’t reveal the person until they were face to face, so now there was nothing to do but wait.

 

He took his phone out and without thinking typed up a text to Steve.

 

_‘Guess what, I've got a new date.’_

 

Yeah, he was actually seven minutes early. Go figure. Steve replied only two minutes later.

 

_‘New date? You mean not Ty.’_

_‘Please tell me it's not Ty.’_

 

Tony smiled at that. He was honestly too relieved himself to crack any jokes about it or poke fun at Steve, yet.

 

_‘Not Ty. Haven't met them yet.’_

 

A shadow fell over the phone and Tony raised his head. Stared.

 

“Steve?” Tony's poor heart skipped a beat and then started hammering away as if trying to make up for the missed beat. “What are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse.

 

Steve’s eyes went to the ‘reserved’ sign and back to Tony. Then he glanced at the Disc in his hand.

 

“Coach?”

 

“Congratulations, you’ve now met your date,” Steve’s Coach said.

 

Tony took an unsteady breath and the corners of his lips trembled. Yeah. It seemed that there were  second chances for him after all. Fuck.

 

“You're my first repeat,” Tony managed in, what sounded to him, quite a normal voice.

 

“You’re my second.” Steve sat.

 

His expression appeared relaxed, but Tony knew him well enough to see the tension in his shoulders. Tony tried to school his expression, lest he start smiling idiotically.

 

“What happened to your three-month-Sharon?”

 

“I…” Steve shook his head. “I'm not entirely sure myself.” He chuckled. “The day before yesterday we were just hanging around, watching late-night TV, having a conversation about nothing really, and she just said, ‘I don't think this is working out.’ I agreed, and somehow, we were done by morning.”

 

“Huh. That's sort of what happened to Ty and me.”

 

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyebrows quirked in doubt.

 

“Yeah, I told him to get his shit out of my place and… In the morning it was over. I guess Ty decided I wasn't worth it after all?”

 

Steve’s eyes flashed. “Ty’s a moron. It's his loss, Tony.”

 

They stared at one another.

 

“I like my new date a lot better,” Tony admitted. Because Steve needed to know.

 

“Yeah.” Steve grinned, opened his mouth, closed it and then as if swallowing back what he really wanted to say, just added, “I'm glad.”

 

Before Tony had a chance to begin stressing what Steve’s answer meant or didn't mean, the server appeared with their crepes.

 

“Ham and cheese,” Steve said, delighted.

 

“Mushrooms,” Tony countered drily and for some reason that was also a point of delight for Steve because his smile grew even warmer.

 

When the server left, Tony started eating. He didn't know what to say: within him an inexplicable elation was warring with terrible despair. He shouldn't have this. He knew it was wrong, what was happening. He was Iron Man, who was a hero, yes, but that also meant that he was a liar and a freak. And since Steve didn't know about any of it… Tony didn't deserve to have what he wanted. Not Steve Rogers.

 

The same Steve Rogers that was right now sitting in front of him, looking very pleased with his food and fidgeting with his Disc.

 

Apparently, Steve saw him looking.

 

“We should check how long we have,” Steve said.

 

Tony stilled. “Should we?” He swallowed. “Do you really want to?”

 

“I…” Steve seemed confused. “But, don't we kind of have to?”

 

“Well, I don't see how they can make us.” Tony took a sip of his juice, and cut a piece of his crepe. “Besides, if you think of both of our last relationships - they both ended when one or both of parties decided it wasn't working.” He put the piece into his mouth and chewed. “It seems to me that the Disc doesn’t so much determine, as it predicts and then acts according to our wishes.” He looked at Steve. “I really don't want to know what it thinks about our relationship. If you get fed up with me, just tell me. Okay?” Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. He really didn't want to think about that eventuality. “Whatever the Disc says, whether  it's a day or a week or a month -- I really don't want to know.”

 

Steve looked very serious as he contemplated Tony’s request.

 

“Alright. If you promise to do the same. Tell me if it isn't working for you.” Steve thought a bit. “Better yet, tell me how to improve. Because I don't think we should throw in the towel at the first sign of trouble.” Steve put the fork down before continuing. “If something isn't how we like it we should try and change it, don’t you think that would be better than just giving up?”

 

Tony felt a lump forming in his throat and swallowed. “Yeah.”

 

Steve was… Tony had no clue how he was still single. Why hadn't every one of his dates bent backwards just to make it work with Steve?

 

Steve was _perfect._

 

“I’m asking now,” Tony blurted, and instantly felt himself go hot all over.

 

“Asking what?” Steve frowned.

 

Tony swallowed. “You said… Last time.” Despite feeling totally transparent and vulnerable Tony forged on, “I know you were probably joking, but… You said that if I'd asked, you’d have slept with me. Well, I’m asking now.”

 

Surprised, Steve drew in a deep breath. Then a brilliant, warm smile blossomed on his face. It took Tony's breath away.

 

Steve put his right hand on top of Tony's left. Leaned over and, with his other hand, reached across the table, put it behind Tony's neck and pulled him closer. Steve’s lips were dry but bold and Tony's mouth opened almost immediately. It was a short kiss but it was real and Tony thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

 

“I'd love to,” Steve said, dropping the hand from behind Tony’s neck.

 

“What?”

 

“What you asked.” Steve blushed all over. “I'd love to.” He cleared his throat. “With you.”

 

*

 

A shiver ran down Tony's spine and he fought to keep his fingers from trembling as he ran them through Steve’s short hair. He couldn't believe they were kissing, he couldn't believe that Steve was actually kissing him. Even if it only happened because of Dream Dating, Tony would make the best of it. Even if it was only physical pleasure that Tony would be giving him, he was determined to positively _ruin_ Steve for any other partners.

 

They hadn't really discussed it beyond agreeing that it was going to happen, but the moment they stepped into the mansion elevator, they were on each other, their lips touching, their tongues dancing their own delicious dance. Steve moaned when Tony backed him against the wall, and Tony thought he himself would have been the more vocal one, but Steve was responding like he hadn't felt pleasure worth giving voice to in recent memory.

 

Had he and Sharon not been sleeping together for some reason? Or was Steve's serumed-up libido so high that no baseline human could keep up? Was that why it didn't work out between them? Thoughts about hows and whys ricocheting in the back of his mind, Tony explored Steve’s mouth, still pressing him to the wall by his biceps.

 

The trick to guarding the centre of his chest was to be the first to place his hands on his partner in a way that made it uncomfortable for them to touch it. It was years since he’d been able to just let go while having sex; being cautious had become a second nature. With Steve, it was very difficult to not forget himself.

 

The elevator doors opened and Tony leapt backwards. He was trembling, but was gratified to see that he wasn’t the only one panting. When they stepped out, Steve, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, just tilted his head questioningly, and Tony nodded towards his room before purposefully moving past Steve to press his palm to the biometrics reader just to their left.

 

The moment they were inside, Tony pushed the door closed, and taking charge again, backed Steve against it. Tony was amazed by the way Steve’s mouth instantly went pliant and felt a sharp tug of pleasure reach directly into his balls. It was his turn to moan.

 

Determinedly, Tony put his palms wide on Steve’s pecs and rubbed them; with sure movements he explored his whole torso, while Steve just stood there trembling, his eyes closed, and hands clutching Tony's hips. For a minute, Tony drew just far enough  away to take in the picture of Steve leaning against the door. His head was thrown back, the long column of his neck exposed, and his jaw slack and mouth open, but for all the seeming passivity, his body was taut and shaking in anticipation.

 

Tony took a deep breath, pushing the whole length of his body against Steve’s, only to hear him react with a suppressed whimper.

 

“Don’t,” Tony whispered against Steve’s now rigidly closed mouth, trying to coax it open by nibbling at his lower lip. “Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I like hearing you.”

 

Steve shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, as if embarrassed, and Tony smiled. Instead of calling Steve out on it, he nuzzled his face into the crook of Steve’s neck and kissed the skin there, then moved towards the collarbone and back up the neck on the other side. When he started sucking open-mouthed kisses into the same area, Steve finally let out a low whimper, and Tony felt himself go even harder.

 

Shit, he was going to miss this, Tony thought and something cold squeezed at his mechanical heart.

 

With his hands, Tony continued exploring Steve’s body. He put his thumbs on Steve’s nipples and rubbed lightly; Steve shivered, banged his head against the door and half sighed, half moaned his pleasure. That, Tony decided, wasn't good enough. He put his mouth back on Steve’s, kissed him sweetly and abruptly twisted his nipples.

 

Steve cried out, bucked his hips and somehow… melted. Thrilled, Tony played with his nipples for a bit while kissing and biting Steve’s neck and across his shoulder. Steve kept whimpering but held still. Usually, Tony disliked passivity, but something about Steve, virtually the strongest human being in the world, letting him do whatever he wanted, felt intoxicating.

 

Tony opened the first two buttons on Steve’s shirt and started kissing down his chest, before he remembered himself. He put his arms around Steve’s waist and started moving backwards.

 

“Tony?” Steve said in a breathless voice.

 

“Bed,” Tony explained.

 

“Yeah…” Steve said, opening his eyes, and then slowly, a dopey smile blossomed on his beautiful face. Despite it, he suddenly started moving more purposefully, and Tony was _gone_.

 

It was that moment that Tony knew with a devastating clarity that however well this situation developed, whatever happened between them, Tony was going to be heartbroken when this relationship ended. He maneuvered Steve to walk ahead of him, so that he couldn’t see Tony’s face.

 

It shouldn’t have been a revelation. He’d known he was in love with Steve for a long time, but it had also come with a calm acceptance that friendship was all he was ever going to have, so there was no point in agonizing about it too much. Now that he knew how Steve’s kisses tasted, how he trembled when Tony touched him, what he sounded like when he was aroused - _that_ was something Tony could never unknow, and for the rest of his life he was going to know exactly what he was missing. With a distant dread, Tony suspected that after having Steve, he would never wish to touch anyone else ever again. But that was a worry for the future.

 

When they reached the bed, Tony sat Steve down, straddled his thighs and for a moment just leaned his forehead against Steve’s and breathed.

 

“Tony? Are you alright?” Steve sounded confused. He put his hands on Tony’s hips and Tony felt that this was right - they way they sat here, holding each other, breathing each other’s air, this was how it was supposed to be.

 

But of course, this was just a fanciful idiocy; Steve was here only because the Disc had told him to be here. Tony swallowed.

 

“Sure,” he lied easily. “Never better.” His lips smiled.

 

For a split second, there was a hint of an answering smile on Steve’s face, and before Tony could even properly grunt in surprise, there were hands under his thighs. For a moment he was in the air, and then Tony was lying on the bed with Steve on top. Tony blinked.

 

“What? How did you even…?” They looked at each other and laughed. Tony’s heart clenched. “Eager much?“ he said, breathlessly.

 

“Can't give you time to reconsider, can I,“ Steve explained cheekily.

 

Tony barked out a laugh. “Who the hell would ever refuse you? Have you seen yourself?“

 

Steve flashed him a quick grin and shut Tony up by biting his Adam’s apple. Tony jolted and retaliated by pulling Steve down and plunging his tongue forcefully into his mouth in a manner he'd have previously thought Steve would dislike, but Steve only bit back another whimper.

 

Okay, so maybe this was the beginning of the end, and maybe Tony didn't deserve to have this, but if Steve really wanted to have a bit of fun with him, who was Tony to refuse him? And what came after… Tony would just deal with that later.

 

Very soon, their shirts were off and Tony put his lips to Steve’s sensitive nipples, while at the same time groping to open Steve’s fly. Steve’s back arched and he offered no resistance when Tony sat up and maneuvered to reverse their positions. He straddled Steve’s thighs again and went on to explore his body. Trying to memorise every inch of Steve’s skin, every shiver and whimper, Tony kept caressing his chest and sides. Needing to make sure he knew what Steve liked, in case he had a chance to worship his body again, he covered Steve’s skin with open-mouthed kisses, nibbling, biting and sucking as he explored. It seemed that Tony could do no wrong, in under five minutes, Steve was bucking up and holding on to Tony's hips in an almost painful grip. When Tony stood up to his knees, there was a moment when he thought Steve wouldn't let him go.

 

“Pants. Just let me, okay?” Tony almost breathed, and Steve just said ‘yes’ and reached out for Tony’s fly.

 

They divested themselves of the rest of the clothes, and Tony lay down between Steve's legs to admire his beautiful cock, standing proudly at attention. He glanced up, only to see Steve staring at him with the most unguarded awe Tony had ever seen, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. When he exhaled loudly, it was onto Steve’s cock.

 

“Please,” Steve breathed quietly.

 

Ridiculously, at that moment in time, Tony felt fiercely that this was the pinnacle of his sex life and nothing would ever top it: Steve Rogers was begging for his, Tony's, mouth. Feeling like the king of the world, Tony swiped his tongue from the base of Steve’s cock to the crown. Steve’s hips lifted off the bed, and, fascinated, Tony realized that for the first time in over ten years, he had a sex-related problem.

 

“Steve,“ he said. “We have a problem.“

 

“What?”

 

“If you want me to suck you off, we’ll have to do something about you clobbering me unconscious with your groin.”

 

“What?” Steve rose up onto his elbows, for an instant, stared owlishly at Tony and blushed scarlet.

 

“I’m sorry for ruining the moment, it’s just-” Tony cleared his throat. “-if you jerk your hips up, I can’t hold you down.”

 

It shouldn’t have been possible, but Steve’s face flushed even more. “Oh,” was all he said.

 

“No need to be embarrassed.” Tony smiled fondly. “I love how strong you are and quite frankly, it makes me really, really hot for you, it's just…“ Tony leaned up, kissed Steve on the mouth and sat up. “The other reason I made a stupid joke about a clobbering dick is that I want you thinking clearly for this.”

 

“Yes, yes, of course.” Steve clambered up, his embarrassment quickly dissolving, but his eyes searching -- Tony suddenly realised -- for something to cover up with.

 

“Get under a sheet,” Tony said, fiercely regretting breaking the mood. “Look,” he started, hesitating for a moment, but then became annoyed with himself. “There are two ways we can go about this. First is that we continue like this and I’ll be careful to pay attention to get out of the way if your dick decides to piston me to death-” Steve opened his mouth to object, but Tony ignored it. “The other way is… more unconventional, but potentially more fun and probably safer.”

 

“Okay.” Steve was clutching the sheet up to his waist, but otherwise looked to have overcome his previous awkwardness. “If it’s more fun and safer, then why are you hesitating?”

 

Tony looked away for a moment. “It has to do with… role-playing. A bit. I mean, so far - and there’s nothing shameful about it, so don’t start blushing again - so far you’ve been taking my lead and - No, don’t look like that! It’s fine, honestly, I liked what we did very much! The point is that we can make it into a game.”

 

Steve had been watching Tony only a little warily, but by the end of the explanation his eyebrows shot up and his expression turned downright suspicious. “A game?”

 

“Yes, nothing complicated. We’ll do everything like we’ve been doing, but from time to time I’ll give you instructions on what to do. Not that different from what we did before.”

 

“And how do you expect it to help?” Steve looked sceptical.

 

“Well you know how sometimes people get really pliant and suggestible when aroused, right?” Steve nodded, still wary, and Tony continued. “I might be mistaken, but it seemed to me that if we played that up a bit and you were, say, really comfortable with following my lead, I might just tell you not to move your hips and you wouldn’t.”

 

Tony decided not to start explaining the whole sub-dom concept, thinking that the terminology might make Steve reject the whole idea at this point, but it was important for Tony to get Steve’s informed consent before he blatantly just used Steve’s subby tendencies. Tony was mostly sure that Steve had already been somewhat under when they’d stopped, but Tony would’ve felt vaguely criminal if he hadn’t asked Steve if it was alright to capitalize on it.

 

“Or if you want, we’ll do this the other way around. You tell me what to do, which will make you pay more attention on what you’re doing and how much strength you’re using, so you’ll be more in control.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I usually do,” Steve confessed, seemingly hit by another wave of embarrassment. “Sorry.”

 

“What for? You’ve been fantastic.” Tony grinned.

 

Steve smiled back. Then, very quickly overcoming his shyness, he asked, “And you’d do that for me? Let me order you around?”

 

A tiny part of Tony regretted that he’d even suggested the role reversal. He lacked the ability to go under the way Steve seemed to, so he wouldn’t enjoy it the in same way, but if it would make Steve feel better, then there was no question of what he should do. “Absolutely.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

Steve’s eyes went a bit round. “You’ve done it before?”

 

“There’s very little I haven’t done.”

 

“And did you like it?”

 

“It always depends on a partner, but with you? Yeah, I‘ll definitely enjoy it.”

 

“Okay.” Steve nodded decisively.

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Steve said. “But I want to try the first option, with you telling me what you want.”

 

A startled pleasure filled Tony's gut and impulsively he said, “Kiss me.”

 

Steve’s lips started stretching into a smile, but before they did, he leapt closer and kissed Tony. For a little while, they just kissed and touched each other, but when Tony judged them both sufficiently relaxed and tense only in all the good ways, he started to talk.

 

“Take this sheet off yourself. There. Back up a bit. Yeah, very good, thank you. Now put your hands behind my neck and stroke me there. Play with my hair,” he instructed almost breathlessly, as Steve, his eyes already half-lidded and movements languid, did what he was told. “Slide your hands over my shoulders, now down, behind my back, down- oh fuck, that feels so good. Come here, yeah, like this, I want you to kiss my nipples. Now suck. Aah! Fuck, yes!”

 

When Tony  couldn't wait any longer, he told Steve to lie back down and put his hands up and grip the headboard. Looking dazed and his breathing deep, Steve did what Tony asked. When Tony went on to kiss and suck every bit of Steve’s skin, Steve started trembling again, and his breath became short, but he still remained lying down as instructed, with his hands holding onto the headboard. Tony had been right - Steve went into subspace quite easily and very clearly enjoyed it immensely.

 

“Make all the noises you want, sweetheart,” he said, because it seemed that Steve was holding back again. “Let me hear you, tell me how much you like it, but don’t. Move. Your hips. Got it?”

 

Steve moaned a strangled ‘yes’, and Tony loved him.

 

Tony slid down to lie between Steve’s legs, turning his attention back to Steve’s leaking hard-on and took hold of the base.  He started with licking the shaft and the head, but before moving further, Tony glanced up only to see Steve biting his lips and staring down at Tony with his eyes full of gentle, hazy wonder.

 

Tony loved him.

 

Forcibly holding the words in, Tony took the head of Steve’s cock in his mouth and finally started sucking. Steve keened. Tony opened wider and leaned in to take inside what he could. Tony loved the hard and soft feeling on his tongue, filling his mouth, and sighed in pleasure.

 

A lot quicker than Tony would've thought possible, Steve was trembling, his muscles taut and rock hard with the effort not to buck up. He was whimpering and mumbling something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘yes’, ‘god’ and Tony’s name.

 

Tony lost all sense of time, right up until he noticed that his jaw was aching and his cock throbbing. He rubbed it into the bedding to relieve some tension, but it hardly helped. Unsurprisingly, Steve didn't notice, too far gone to do anything but enjoy what Tony was doing to him.

 

“Put your hands in my hair, Steve. I don't mind a little tugging, but be careful.”

 

It took Steve a minute and a repeated instruction before he pried his hands away from the headboard and slid them into Tony’s locks. Tony _loved_ how it felt, how Steve’s fingers moved, tugged, and then settled as if he needed something to hold on to. He loved _Steve_.

 

Tony wanted this to never end. _Steve, Steve, Steve_ , he was chanting in his head; thank fuck he couldn’t talk with his mouth full. A lot sooner than Tony was prepared, Steve's body seized up and the lukewarm semen exploded into Tony's mouth.

 

For a moment Steve’s fingers tightened in Tony's hair and reflexively, Tony pressed his groin into the mattress. Steve’s upper body rose up in a reversed arch and fell back down in relaxation. Carefully, Tony cleaned him up and rose to his haunches to better commit to memory the sight of Steve’s blissed out expression, his closed eyes and lax mouth.

 

‘I love you,’ he mouthed silently to Steve’s averted face and took his own cock out.

 

The feeling of his own hand on his dick was as sweet as it was bitter, but unable to wait any longer, he jerked off as quickly and efficiently as he could.

 

Looking at Steve made it easy - there was nothing else Tony had to think about - and soon, it didn't matter that Steve was just his friend who didn't even know about his secret identity, or what would happen if he ever found out. It didn't matter that Steve was in this bed only for the sex. Even that Tony loved him was just a background noise to the overwhelming feeling of the pleasure he felt at the hand on his dick while watching Steve coming back down from his high.

 

It didn't take long before Tony came. Steve still had his eyes closed, but his breathing was almost evened out, as if he were falling asleep. He looked peaceful and happy, and for a moment more, Tony allowed himself to look his fill.

 

Tony’s fingers twitched to brush Steve’s cheek, and he had to remind himself that Steve was not really his boyfriend, and that he was here only because the Disc had paired them.

 

Carefully, Tony lifted his leg to get out of the bed, but suddenly, there was a hand on his wrist.

 

The look in Steve’s eyes was coy, but hooded, as if holding something back. “Come here. You’re not finished.”

 

Tony grinned. “Not necessary. Everything's taken care of, don't worry about it.”

 

“What?” Steve hefted himself onto his elbows to look at Tony. “Oh.” Tony was thrilled to hear a distinct disappointment in Steve’s tone. “Well, how long until you can go again?” Tony's heart swelled with gratitude, which was a pathetic reaction, he was well aware. Viciously, he pushed it back, but before he had a chance to start leering to cover it up, Steve continued, “Mind if I explore a bit until you can, or is there anywhere you need to be today?”

 

Apparently, being grateful for being wanted was something he had to accept, but thankfully he managed to grin anyway. “Here, obviously. Explore away.”

 

*

 

Tony and Steve spent most of the Saturday in bed, but when evening came, Tony made his excuses, kissed Steve lazily on the mouth and took the elevator to his workshop. He couldn’t go to sleep. He’d never planned for his date to stretch as long as it did, so now he needed to get some work done.

 

Tony opened the relevant files and took out the circuit board he'd been working on.

 

He’d been correct, he thought as he worked;  Steve did need a lot of sex. The surprising part of the equation wasn’t that; it was the fact that apparently, Tony Stark had a conscience. When they'd simply been friends, hiding his secret identity had felt bad, but could still be written off as an unpleasant, though rational choice that he had to get used to, but the moment sex came into it, he'd felt wretched - wretched in a way that made him think of coming clean, despite the fact that it would put an end not only to their dating, but also to their friendship. Tony had no illusions; maybe there was a point where admitting to his secret identity would've put only a temporary strain on their friendship and their working relationship, but by now, they were certainly long past that point. The deception had gone on for far too long for their friendship to survive if his secret were to be revealed. It had been too late for any kind of confession years ago.

 

Tony stared at the circuitry in front of him. Time to put the maudlin feelings aside and get cracking. He nodded firmly, and thought about the way Steve had looked in his bed after his orgasm. For a little while it even helped, but inevitably, as it tended to happen, thinking of Steve meant thinking about losing him.

 

How could their friendship possibly survive this kind of betrayal?

 

Tony Stark was the lowest of the low and fully deserved whatever was coming to him, he thought, as he looked at the finished board, but the usual feeling of accomplishment didn't follow. He put it aside and stared at his tools. Should he clean up? The whole workshop was a mess.

 

“DUM-E, clean.”

 

That should take care of it. Why didn’t other people build themselves help? Tony cleared off a section of his workbench only to take another set of tools out of the bottom drawer.

 

So if he ended up in hell eventually anyway, why not make his temporary trip to heaven last as long as possible? Tony grimaced and imagined brushing that thought away into his mental recycle bin, but the feeling of being the dirtiest scum on the bottom of the dirtiest pond lingered.

 

So now the only thing left to do was make sure that Steve never found out.

 

Right.

 

Crush the file, bin the file.

 

Tony lowered his hands and stared at the engine crankshaft he was supposed to place next. It wasn’t working. The file dump, not the engine assembly; the assembly was going fine, except for the part where his hands were idle in his lap again.

 

Tony imagined the binning of his nasty thoughts again, with the crusher machine and all, but the knowledge of his deception was a vicious virus.

 

Grimacing, he took up crankshaft and fixed it into position.

 

Every time Tony thought about Steve finding out who he really was, he went all numb inside. He'd fucked up. There were no words for just how badly he'd fucked up. And there was nothing he could do to make it right any more.

 

Tony noticed that his hands had stopped working. Fuck.

 

He worked straight through until three in the morning. By the time exhaustion started to catch up to him, he also realized that ‘I’m not thinking about the thing I don’t want to think about’ had quietly turned into ‘I'm not panicking about the thing I'm not thinking about’.

 

The only solution was to lose himself in engineering something awesome, of course. Or maybe to go flying, but he needed to finish this. He stood up and went to the small fridge where Ty had stored a few energy drinks earlier, and grabbed a can. He downed half of it before getting back to the workbench to dive back into assembling a new type of generator he’d been working on.

 

In the morning, his hands were shaking, but the generator was as ready as it was going to get at this stage. Tony was going to call this a win.

 

When he saw Steve later that afternoon for lunch and the following fuck-fest, he’d been in a strange state of sharp eyesight, fuzzy feelings and louzy reflexes. Steve’s mouth tasted the same though, and his hands under Tony’s clothes felt even better.

 

The attraction had to have been at least a little bit mutual from the start, Tony decided while lounging on the sofa he and Steve had just desecrated, or else the Disc wouldn’t have paired them again.

 

“Come here, you,” Steve said, while pulling Tony into his arms again.

 

‘You always make me feel better,’ Tony thought and sighed contentedly.

 

They were obviously very sexually compatible, but the D couldn't have known that beforehand. Hell, Tony hadn't known. It was probably a good sign for the duration of their relationship though, and as Steve had said on that first date, they liked and respected each other, so why wouldn’t it last? If only Tony could stop himself from thinking about Iron -

 

_Dammit!_

 

Maybe that was why they hadn't been paired all this time? Tony's underlying mental anxiety? Or maybe it was Steve’s decision that he liked Tony more than he’d previously thought, or was it all just ‘part of the process’? Being paired with Ty for so long made even less sense in retrospect. After all, it seemed quite farfetched to assume that Ty really wanted to be with Tony that much.

 

That was the true glitch right there - the process - not the seven percent failed perfect matches.

 

“You working tomorrow?” Steve asked with his smiling mouth almost touching Tony’s ear.

 

“Yeah,” he replied on a sigh. Tony didn’t elaborate that he actually needed to be at the workshop right now for that matter, to finish two projects and do some paperwork he’d neglected to do during the day. Instead, he kissed Steve goodbye on his doorstep, waited until Steve was safely inside his own room, and quickly popped into the kitchen for a large mug of coffee on his way to the workshop. What Steve didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

 

Tony squared off both projects before five am, but then felt a severe need to refuel, because his vision had tunneled out and his hands were shaking more than was comfortable.

 

He couldn’t sleep yet though.

 

If he went to sleep and woke up, it might all turn out to be a dream. Or the Disc would ‘ping’ with the news of recalibration.

 

Thankfully there was plenty of paperwork to distract him. Another sip of the energy drink, and let the reading commence. Thank fuck it didn’t need any particular attention to detail. The little that he had to type on his tablet, he preferred to dictate anyway. Pepper had once said that she could guess how little sleep he’d gotten from the way he scribbled his signature.

 

Two hours later, he decided to venture out of the workshop for breakfast. Not because that was the time that Steve usually returned from his morning run, but because he was hungry.

 

There were noises in the kitchen, and Tony’s heart rate kicked up a notch.

 

“Tony, what are you doing up so early?” Jan asked. “Are you binge-engineering or did you have a date?”

 

“No date.” His eyes automatically searched out Steve’s.

 

Steve smiled, but turned away to hide it. Tony‘s lips twitched.

 

“And where’s Ty?” Carol asked, but only after a moment she continued, “You threw him out, didn’t you?”

 

Tony grimaced. “It sounds so bad when you put it like that.” He grinned. “But accurate.”

 

“Good,” Jan decided, and even though Carol didn’t say anything, the expression on her face seemed somehow approving.

 

Tony felt a bit embarrassed by how good it felt to see his friends’ approval, so he just kept grinning maniacally, which everyone found hilarious for some reason. Jan even patted him on the head before leaving the kitchen.

 

Tony wolfed down a couple of sandwiches, and throwing one last look at Steve’s back (damn his teammates!), left to shower and dress. He had work in an hour.

 

*

 

The next time he saw Steve (in blue jeans and white tee perfection), it was after nine, and he’d just come home from a business-related dinner, his tie still loose around his neck.

 

"You look awful. When did you last sleep?” Steve asked him the minute Tony let him into his room. “I thought you went to bed last night.”

 

Tony smiled at his boyfriend (temporary, Disc boyfriend, he corrected himself with an angry twist in his heart, dammit) and stepped closer to put his hands on Steve’s waist. “I totally had a catnap and I'm fine,” he half-lied. He, in fact, had put his head down for a quarter of an hour at one point between projects, but the caffeine thrumming in his bloodstream had prevented him from falling asleep.

 

“Are you going to bed now?”

 

Steve sounded concerned, so Tony had no idea what to tell him. He probably should recharge tonight or there would be dire consequences the next day.

 

“I’ve gone longer than that without sleep,” he said honestly. “I’m gonna nip down to the workshop for a bit, and then straight to bed. I promise.”

 

Steve stared at him for a moment. “I’m coming with you.”

 

Tony blinked. “That’s not necessary.” Frantically, he tried to make up a good excuse. “You’ll be bored to tears. Tell you what - give me an hour, and then come and get me, okay?”

 

“And you’ll come to bed with me?”

 

Tony's lips stretched into a delighted grin. “With you? Always.”

 

Steve looked at him fondly. “Okay. But you only get forty-five minutes. Otherwise you’ll find an excuse to start something new.”

 

On that timeframe Steve refused to budge, so that night he had to enlist Jarvis’s help for the re-charging process.

 

“Are you sure that’s wise, Sir?” Jarvis asked not five minutes later, while strapping Tony down to the table.

 

“The current is only a little higher, so the risk is negligible, but the payoff is significant.” Tony didn’t say that it was also quite a bit more painful, but he suspected that Jarvis knew that anyway. “Look. I just...” He paused. ”Come back in forty and shut it off, alright?”

 

Jarvis stared at Tony, his mouth in an unhappy thin line. “Tony-”

 

“Please.” Jarvis almost never called him by his first name and he never used the short version. Tony felt a bit like Jarvis was the one undergoing a painful procedure, and Tony the one subjecting him to it. “Please, Jarvis. I need to do this. And it’s not that bad really. I’ve done it before.”

 

Jarvis stared at him for a moment more. “Alright, Sir. As you wish,” he said sadly.

 

Neither of them made note of the implication that Tony wouldn’t be able to turn the generator off himself, even though the button, connected to the machine by the cord, was in his hand.

 

When Jarvis finished strapping him down, Tony waited for him to leave before turning the generator on.

 

The first jolt of shock felt excruciating, and he had to hold in a cry. Tony hadn't lied; he had used the higher current before, but it’d been the first time he’d ever charged his heart, and he’d decided never to do it again. However, this time his only other alternative was to leave his heart half-charged and do it again the next day, but he wasn’t sure he’d have the opportunity to slip away again.

 

So he endured.

 

*

 

As Jarvis was known to sometimes putter around the workshop, it wasn’t very unusual for Steve to see him when he came down. That Tony was trying to avoid looking weak and wobbly around Steve also wasn’t very unusual. Nor was the instant where Steve was looking at him with what Tony called in his head the ‘Captain America Disapproves’ face. It wasn't always funny.

 

“What are you drinking?” Steve said mulishly, gesturing to the energy drink can in Tony’s hand. “Weren’t you going to bed soon?”

 

“To bed, certainly.” Tony tried leering. “But I will need some additional energy for that, won’t I?”

 

Steve ignored the lewd joke. “And didn’t you also drink one of those the last time I saw you down here? Is that how you keep yourself awake?” He stepped closer to where Tony was sitting on the couch and towering angrily over Tony, peered into his face. “Jesus, Tony. When was the last time you slept?”

 

Tony ignored the judgemental tone and took his time to down the rest of his drink, because it was important that Steve didn’t see him wobble on his feet when he’d finally stand up. “I’ll go to bed now,” he promised, his tone measured.

 

“Can you even sleep? After that?”

 

Steve was still pointedly (as it seemed to Tony) not sitting down and Tony had to crane his neck to look him in the eye.

 

“You don't have to worry about it,” he retorted mulishly. “I've been taking care of myself long before you came along.”

 

Steve had his fists on his hips now. “Have you really? Is that what you're calling it? Don’t you know that the energy drinks are even worse for your health than a coffee binge would be?”

 

Tony's nostrils flared and he opened his mouth to retort angrily, when Steve turned his head sharply towards Jarvis who was muttering something under his breath.

 

“What?” Steve exclaimed. “A h- a heart condition?” He turned back to Tony. “What’s he talking about?”

 

Feeling vaguely panicked, Tony stared at his elderly butler, then turned back to Steve, whose face was a implacable mask of determination.

 

When Steve spoke, his tone was livid, and his words clearly enunciated. “What does he mean, Tony?” With measured, precise movement, Steve finally sat down to stare at Tony at his eye level. “Is what he said true? Are you not supposed to drink energy drinks because you have a heart condition?”

 

Alarm bells started blaring away at the back of Tony’s head, as he vaguely noticed Jarvis, the traitor, quietly leave the room.

 

“Well, it’s…” Tony swallowed. He didn’t really feel like a total lie would be justified. “It’s nothing really. Just some shrapnel that did some damage a while ago. It's under control now. You don’t have to worry about it.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Steve was still sitting rigidly, his mouth in a disapproving line. It made Tony feel like a stupid schoolboy who’d soldered a capacitor backwards, which in turn, set his teeth on edge just like when Howard had made fun of his achievements.

 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he bit out.

 

Steve drew back and his face hardened even more. “No. You don’t.” Steve’s smile was wry and looked wrong on his face. “Since, you know, we’re together only because of some piece of machinery decided we should be.”

 

Tony felt like being punched in the gut, and before he had a chance to recover, Steve drove it home.

 

“I thought that I was your friend, Tony, but am I really? Before this relationship I thought that the feeling of you constantly holding back was me. Me not knowing you well enough, not understanding you well enough. But that isn’t it at all, is it? The truth is that we aren’t friends, because you don’t trust me as a friend would, and I was a fool to think otherwise.”

 

Steve looked away, and Tony stared at his profile, trying hopelessly to find something to say that wouldn’t sound juvenile. “You're wrong,” he tried. “I do trust you, and I am your friend, Steve.” He had to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’ve always been your friend,” he added more quietly.

 

“So why didn’t you tell me?” Steve was staring at him when a strange expression flickered over his face and when Tony didn't answer right away, Steve's shoulders dropped a notch as if he was giving up. “Ty told me you do that - keep things to yourself, disappear for hours into your workshop, never telling anyone how long you’ll be, hiding that you're not sleeping or eating. But that I expected. What I didn’t expect is constantly feeling like you’re holding back on me, and now I know why. I don’t think you've ever really trusted me, Tony.”

 

The worst thing was that Tony suddenly realised that in a way, Steve was right. It didn’t feel right, but logically, it did look that way, and there was no argument Tony could defend himself with. Tony hadn’t told Steve, because… what? At first, yes, Tony didn’t know that he could trust Steve, and then somehow, he’d just let the moment where he could have revealed the truth, slip through his fingers without even really considering it.

 

He was a coward. Should he tell Steve that? To what end? To make him think even worse of Tony?

 

“When did you even talk to Ty?” he muttered.

 

“He practically lived at the mansion, Tony. Sometimes we talked about you. Does it matter?”

 

Tony looked away.

 

“What about your friends Ms Potts and Colonel Rhodes? Do they know?”

 

Tony had no idea what would be better, saying that he'd trusted them more than Steve, or admitting that he was so broken that some things he just couldn't bear to say to anyone.

 

“Not… Not everything.”

 

Steve nodded as if confirming something for himself. “Do you want to tell me now? About your heart?”

 

It was a challenge, Tony knew. A turning point - he'd either tell Steve something and be an outright liar, or tell him nothing at all and possibly wreck even this sliver of a relationship they had.

 

“Steve.” Tony grasped Steve’s hand in his, but the hand was lifeless, unforgiving as the expectant expression on Steve’s face, and not knowing what to say, Tony let go.

 

He desperately wanted to tell Steve everything and be forgiven, but what could he really tell him that would grant him the forgiveness he craved? That he was a coward and a freak who had a piece of machinery instead of a heart?

 

That he was Iron Man?

 

Not that. Never that, there was no way Steve wouldn’t call him a weak-willed liar then.

 

“Tony?”

 

Steve would probably conclude that Iron Man was just an illusion, a mask for someone who’d never really been a hero, Just a spoiled rich boy playing dress-up. It wasn’t true, Tony was almost certain, but what could he say that would convince anyone?

 

“Tony?” Steve repeated in a strange voice and Tony felt Steve’s stare on him, but couldn’t make himself look back. “Do you think you will ever fully trust me?” he asked when Tony raised his face, if not his eyes.

 

Tony didn’t know how to answer.

 

“Right,” Steve said quietly. “Well then.” In the periphery of his sight Tony saw Steve square his shoulders. “Let me know when you reconsider,” he finished decisively, stood up and resolutely left the workshop.

 

Tony stayed sitting for a while longer, trying not to think about whether this was a break up or just ‘the first sign of trouble’. Steve had been adamant about not giving up at the first sign of it, yes, but wasn’t the matter of trust kind of essential? He dropped his head on the back of the couch and groaned.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he'd fucked up, he was such a fuck-up. His heart, it seemed, ached worse than his body.

 

Had the accelerated charge been worth it in the end?

 

Tony rubbed his face and debated about not checking his Disc ever again. Then he could pretend that Steve was just on an extended mission, not potentially getting ready to date other people. But Steve wouldn’t do that. Surely they’d talk about it first? They were going to work things out, weren’t they? The idea that Steve wouldn’t want to work it out was churning at his gut.

 

He would go to bed and speak to Steve tomorrow, when his head was clearer, because his limbs and insides were still aching and relatively weak, even though his heart was pumping away like no tomorrow. That was a reasonable course of action. Not checking the Disc, however, was cowardly and Iron Man never put off facing his problems face-on.

 

Tony tried to remember where he’d put the blasted D. He'd stopped wearing it on his person when Steve and he had decided not to let it determine how long they were going to be together. But before he could get up to actually look for it, there was a ‘ping’ from somewhere in the workshop.

 

Tony’s heart skyrocketed painfully in his chest. There were only few things the device could want to tell him and all of them would be related to Steve.

 

He stared at the workbench under which the device was most likely lying in wait.

 

And stared. He was Iron Man. He could do this.

 

If he were still with Ty, the Disc would probably be informing him where Tony would be meeting the bastard next, but knowing it was Steve? Tony had no idea.

 

What if Steve had, too, decided that Tony wasn't worth it? That it wasn't working between them? But no, Steve had told Tony to let him know if he reconsidered about telling him about the heart, so it meant - what? That he'd wait at least a bit longer than twenty minutes, right? It wasn’t even morning yet for Steve to see things more clearly in the light of day. Except that Tony actually knew he _wasn't_ worth it. Maybe Steve had finally realized it too?

 

Tony’s palms were sweaty. Twenty minutes was too soon. Steve would at least talk to him first, Tony told himself for the thousandth time. Steve wouldn't do anything without talking to Tony. He wouldn’t.

 

Except what if the Disc knew how Steve felt and had acted pre-emptively? No, this AI wasn't nearly good enough for that. Unless it was programmed to predict the clients’ wishes, but then it would've been practically random.

 

Tony reminded himself that Iron Man wasn't the one for prolonging the agony of the unknown. Now that there was no one here, there was no longer any need for Tony to hide how unsteady he was on his feet, so he stood, trying not to sway.

 

He swallowed, and feeling shaky, crossed the room. The Disc had indeed rolled under the furthest workbench. Leaning on a shelf, he slid down the wall and picked the damned thing up. As Tony was already on the floor anyway, he didn't bother to stand up, but remained where he was, cross-legged, with the device in hand, the flat blue surface dull and dark, a small red dot blinking slowly at the outer edge.

 

“Coach,” Tony's voice was hoarse. “Current relationship status, please.”

 

“Unable to process your request. Battery at seven percent. For optimal operation, please charge the Dream Dating Device regularly.”

 

Tony cursed. Adrenaline pumping, he stood and looked around for the charger.

 

“Oh, thank fuck.”

 

In three quick steps he was at the shelf next to the socket and his fucking D was charging.

 

“Thank you for taking care of the Dream Dat-”

 

“Oh, shut up! What's my relationship expiry date?” He braced on the shelf, staring intently at the display.

 

“Current relationship: Steve Rogers. Estimated duration: five years.”

 

Tony’s jaw dropped and he inhaled sharply, but then the number on the display started blinking.

 

“Thank you for taking care of the Dream Dating Device. Battery at fifteen percent. Recalibrating the duration of the current relationship.”

 

“Shit.” The memory of what happened the last time the device recalibrated brought a paralyzing stab of fear.

 

“Recalibrating…” the coach said, simultaneously with the same word blinking on the display. It blinked two more times and morphed into a three-year notice.

 

“Fuck you!” Tony yelled, but as it was still blinking, he shouted “Stop!” His heart was trying to pump out of his chest.

 

“Recalibrating...” the hated voice said calmly.

 

“No! Stop, you piece of-”

 

Eight months.

 

_Fuck._

 

The word ‘ _Recalibrating’_ continued blinking until it was three months, then two weeks, then five days, and then-

 

“Current relationship status: unattached.”

 

Tony closed his eyes and slid down the shelf wall, again, curled into a ball, and gripping the torturous device in his hands, willed himself not to cry.

 

*

 

The next two days dragged on. Tony looked at the date on his phone. Yep, just a day and a half since the break-up. Felt like longer.

 

After spending the night curled up on his workshop floor, Tony spent the next morning at the office, several hours at the workshop, and some drifting off in his bed.

 

There was sleep, but every hour, he kept waking up for no apparent reason.

 

And even though there didn't seem to be any point any more, he still got up, still dragged himself to the SE headquarters the next day, where he had to avoid any questions from both Mrs Arbogast and Pepper.

 

Why was he doing this?

 

Why couldn’t he just go to sleep? Sleep and not wake again? An aneurism? They said it was painless and no one could accuse him of checking out, giving up on purpose. He’d just be… gone.

 

Who would mourn him? Would Steve…? Pepper and Happy would miss him, no doubt. Jarvis-

 

Oh God, Jarvis, Tony thought, and ruthlessly shut down any line of thought that even hinted at giving up.

 

He kept away from the mansion’s common areas, so he didn't see any of -- pang -- the Avengers, but he couldn't stop from thinking about everything that had happened. It was like every TV in every room was stuck on a rerun of an emotionally painful show, and the remote was missing.

 

The offices were emptying, and Mrs Arbogast was packing up. He should leave, too.

 

Instead, he was mindlessly filling in the squares of the hardest Sudokus he could find online. Square after square after square after...

 

It wasn't helping.

 

He thought about how he’d fucked up his potential five-year (five years, holy shit!) relationship with Steve, about what Steve looked like just after an orgasm, about how it had felt to be on the receiving end of Steve’s affection, how they went on that first date. About how they became friends in the first place. Not Steve and Iron Man, but Steve and Tony.

 

As Iron Man, it would have been easy, he imagined. They were teammates, which meant that they fought and relaxed after the battle together, so before long (in fact, it only took three fights) Tony’s crush on Captain America had suddenly become a crush on Steve Rogers. That was when he'd decided that he would keep himself apart from the team in _both_ of his identities.

 

And it would’ve worked beautifully, if the Avengers’ PR person hadn't decided that Tony Stark should put in some effort to show the public that he was still dedicated to protecting the US, and that the Avengers initiative wasn't merely a billionaire’s hobby. And that SE didn’t need to manufacture weapons to be at the forefront of protecting the American people.

 

Mostly, it meant that Tony and Captain America had to do several public appearances together, and since Steve’s identity was secret only from the said public, Tony ended up spending quite a bit of time with Steve out of his cowl too.

 

The rest was history. Tony had a crush on Steve, and Steve needed a friend, so keeping away from the team entirely was suddenly not an option any more. That was how Iron Man turned into a teammate who appeared only for Avengers-related business, and Tony Stark turned from a distant benefactor to a good friend with all the team members.

 

Aand - mistake. Tony blinked at the two ‘threes’ in the same row. He grit his teeth, swiped the board clean and started afresh.

 

He couldn’t regret being with Steve though. Despite the ugly gaping wound in his chest, now he had memories.

 

And the awful, churning uncertainty of what would happen should he see Steve again. How would he feel the next time he fought alongside Captain America? Would Steve even want him to, if he knew who was behind the face plate? Did it matter?

 

Tony stood, took his phone, and walked to the door, the elevator, stared at the numbers displayed, exited the car and entered the garage. He walked up to his car, unlocked it and climbed in.

 

Funny, how when your soul hurt, every action took so unbearably long. It felt as if his manhole was filled with molasses, and he was telegraphing his own movements to himself.

 

In the car, Tony removed his tie, and by a long-standing habit, glanced at himself in the mirror. He hated the sight of his ugly face.

 

Why couldn't he just sleep? At least for a little while-

 

No.

 

Stop.

 

That was selfish, and he didn't get to be selfish. Not anymore.

 

He was almost home when his phone went off again.

 

Damn Ty, what did he want now? He’d been calling for the past hour, but Tony didn’t think he could deal with him right now.

 

He parked in the mansion garage, but didn't move to get out of the car. His phone buzzed with an incoming message.

 

Tony sighed and took his phone out. Stared at the display.

 

_1 new message_

 

Tony grunted and opened it.

 

_Call me back, you ungrateful peasant! Checked my implant, you won’t believe what I found. Call me._

 

Tony frowned. Well, that- Another message popped up.

 

_Or better yet, come here, viastone labs, pronto!_

 

Well, at least it would be a distraction. Tony turned the key in the ignition.

 

What the hell could Ty have found? His implant must be malfunctioning in some way, but that didn't feel right - his texts sounded- triumphant? Must be good news. From experience, Tony knew that a phone call now wouldn't help. Now that he'd let Ty wait for an hour, he'd only taunt Tony to get there faster. Well, at least it _seemed_ that it would be something good, right?

 

*

 

It wasn’t good.

 

Not by a long shot.

 

Frozen in shock, Tony was staring at the observation room where, on the left, behind the thick glass, he could see Steve hanging suspended by his wrists, the balls of his feet more or less touching the floor. He was clad in only his jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot and seemingly unconscious. There was crusted blood under his nose, some of which had dripped onto his white shirt. Some of it looked fresh.

 

“What the hell did you do?” Tony turned to Ty, who looked for all intents and purposes, like he was in the middle of an interesting experiment. “Let him go right now!”

 

Tony went to open the steel door to the right of the observation window, but unsurprisingly, it was locked. There didn't seem to be any locking mechanism or a control panel anywhere in the room.

 

“Open. The. Door, Ty.” He couldn't tear his eyes off Steve’s unconscious form, and cursed himself to hell and back for leaving his phone, keys, wallet and even his watch outside the lab area like Ty had asked. Security concerns, his ass! And why did he always leave his identicard in his wallet? Moron.

 

“He came to see me yesterday,” Ty said, ignoring Tony's demand. “Said that his chip was telling him things that weren't true, as if he knew anything!”

 

Tony turned to look at Ty. Somehow, it felt like it was the first time he actually saw the real Tiberius, except at the same time it _wasn't._

 

“Ty,” Tony said, trying to stay very calm. “It’s okay. We can make it right. Steve’s a pretty understanding guy and you haven’t done anything to really hurt him yet, right?”

 

Tony wasn’t entirely sure of it, but Steve looked relatively unharmed and he was a supersoldier. Ty, however, went on as if he hadn’t heard.

 

“I checked his implant readings just after you told me that he was thinking of getting out of Dream Dating. You know this low percentage of people cancelling the service?”

 

“Fourteen percent, something?”

 

Ty grinned. “Nope. Falsified. It’s actually zero something.” Ty’s face morphed into a frigid mask. “No one. Gets. Out.”

 

“What are you talking about, Ty? It’s a fucking dating service, of course people will cancel it. How can you stop them? You what, string everyone who tries up in chains?” He nodded towards still unconscious Steve.

 

“No need. Even you haven’t really thought of cancelling it, have you?”

 

Tony frowned.

 

“Why would I want to get out? It works, right?”

 

Ty flashed a triumphant grin. “Exactly!”

 

“Why is this…” Tony trailed off when he saw Steve’s face twitch, but his eyes didn’t open. “Steve!” he went to the window, tried the door again. “Ty! Let me in. Now! He’s hurt!”

 

“I'll let you in soon, don't worry.”

 

Tony whirled to demand Ty to listen to him, but the expression on his old friend's face… Ty was watching him like… With a sudden cold dread Tony remembered the accident at the school lab so many years ago.

 

“The mice…” He had to swallow in order to continue. “It wasn’t an accident, was it? And you never did let them know,” he realised with a chilling certainty.

 

Ty smiled as if remembering a happy memory.

 

“Jesus…” Tony whispered. For the first time this evening Tony felt the grip on reality slipping through his fingers as his world tilted. “You didn’t… You told me you let professor Durkheim know about the mice.”

 

Ty hummed, nostalgically. “Gave me high for days. Knowing they were dying. Dying, dying, dying, dead…”

 

Tony shook his head. That had been years ago and this was now and he had to talk Ty down _right now_ , but Ty was just smiling indulgently at him.

 

“Admit it though, Tony. You are in love with him, aren't you?”

 

At this exact moment, behind the glass, Steve opened his eyes and got his feet under him. Glared at the window and stretched all his muscles one by one. Tony sighed in relief and thought that the next moment Steve would brace himself and yank the chains off the ceiling, but that didn’t happen. With a pang he now noticed the red around Steve’s wrists and the faint glint of controlled panic in his glare.

 

“How long has he been here?” he demanded.

 

Ty shrugged. “Told you. Since yesterday.”

 

“Steve!” Tony yelled at the window, but Steve didn’t seem to hear it.

 

He stepped closer and pounded on the window as hard as he could, shouting Steve’s name again. This time Steve’s head jerked towards the window.

 

“Tony!” Steve’s mouth formed a shout, which Tony couldn’t hear, and he started struggling, trying to break the chains suspending him.

 

“Nope. None of that,” Ty said calmly, and suddenly Steve jolted, as if struck by a taser. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his muscles locked up, and for a long four seconds he was jerking in his bonds before he lost consciousness and was hanging just as Tony had initially seen him.

 

Tony stopped pounding at the glass and watched in horror as a fresh trickle of blood dripped down from Steve's nose.

 

“Ty!” Tony was starting to panic, his quiet voice laced with venom he rarely heard. “Let him go right now!” Tony knew he was losing control, and that this  boded ill for him and Steve.

 

Ty shrugged. “You know I can’t do that. Not at this stage. He’s basically figured it out. Well, most of it anyway.”

 

There didn't seem to be anything on Ty that he could be using to hurt Steve, but his hands were in his pockets and Tony's own suddenly jerked with a wish to touch the implant behind his ear, but he resisted.

 

“Ah. I see you've caught me out finally.”

 

Tony snapped out of it. “Okay, Ty. It's alright. Not real harm done yet, right? Let's just get Steve out of there, okay? We’ll get you help, and you won’t get prosecuted, I’ll make sure of it.”

 

“Oh come on, Mark Antony! You know that's not possible. Besides, you’re underestimating me again. You do realise it’s not just stringing Captain America up, don’t you?”

 

Tony didn’t startle, but Ty still smiled.

 

“You knew then? I thought so. Why else would you be so enamoured with him? Boring, by-the-book Agent Rogers, right?”

 

Tony gnashed his teeth, but decided not to argue. It wasn’t important. He had to figure out where the controls to the door were and if he couldn't, then he had to incapacitate Ty as soon as possible and find out then.

 

“Look,” he said, moving closer to Ty. “Whatever it is you want, we can talk about it, okay? Just let Steve go.”

 

“Do you think you can give a supersoldier brain damage?“ Ty wondered. “Been zapping him every couple of hours, but he always seems to bounce right back.” He shrugged. “I guess I can find out.”

 

“What. Do you. Want?“

 

Ty raised his hand to warn Tony off. “No-no, don't come any closer unless you want to get zapped too. Unlike Steve here, you hold absolutely no value without your brain. I'd rather you cooperate.”

 

“What. Do you. Want?” Tony repeated, nostrils flaring.

 

Ty grinned coldly. “What do I always want? I want you to _do_ as you are _told_!”

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “It was you then, that paired us? Not the Disc. Do you even have the chip?” He inched half a step closer. _Keep him talking._

 

“Why would _I_ need the chip? _I_ do what I want anyway.” Ty regarded Tony. “It's the rest of the world that needs to fall in line.” He lowered his voice. “Just like you.”

 

“Okay,” Tony acquiesced. “You’ve got me. Now what?” Surreptitiously, he tried to move closer to Ty, but Ty smiled knowingly and stepped back.

 

“Now, my dear, Mark Antony, I want you to remove your jacket, belt and shoes.”

 

Tony blinked. “What? You don't want me naked?” A reflex joke. Wonderful.

 

“Maybe later. But thanks for the offer, darling. I’ll be sure to take you up on it.”

 

Ty smiled lasciviously, and in a fraction of a second, Tony was brought back to the day he’d blown Ty off to go to lunch with Steve. Up until now, Tony had always wondered why Ty hadn't retaliated.

 

What a fool he’d been!

 

Humiliation burned through his gut and out onto his skin with the intensity of an inferno as he thought back to that painful and mortifying night he’d endured, naively thinking that Ty was just an oblivious fuck who was _trying so hard_ to put things right between them, to apologise, to make them work again. While in truth, his sole goal had been to manipulate Tony into doing _whatever_ the fuck Ty wanted him to, to make him feel small and disgusting and embarrassed. And Tony had just _let_ him.

 

He raised his eyes at Ty with all the hurt and betrayal of a young boy who'd just wanted a friend, and had now discovered that all he'd endured in the name of the perceived friendship had been designed to make fun of him, instead.

 

Tony knew his feelings were written all over his face, knew, and couldn't mask them. He knew because of the triumphant satisfaction he could read on Tiberius Stone’s face.

 

“Well, I guess I’ll have to give you that small win.” Tony’s voice was hoarse. “But it will be your last.”

 

“Jacket. Belt. Shoes,” Ty repeated in an almost friendly voice, which to Tony just sounded like ‘no, it won't’, and in the privacy of his mind he heard an answering echo of ‘no, it won't’ too.

 

But the last victory, the one that mattered, would be his.

 

Slowly and calmly, Tony started undressing. It didn't escape his notice that Ty wanted him in the same level of undress as Steve.

 

Briefly, he contemplated defiance, but with no immediate backup coming he'd rather not be zapped for no reason. He had no doubt that Ty could. Or would. Undressing, on the other hand, meant moving around.

 

“No, step back, or I'll electrocute your lover there.”

 

Tony schooled his face into a mask, vowing not to let Ty see his feelings ever again.

 

“He's already unconscious.”

 

“And possibly brain dead, don’t forget. He's bounced back every time so far, but there's got to be a limit.” He pretended to think. “Or I can just keep the chip firing, if you prefer that. Do you think he'll regenerate then?”

 

Tony straightened, reached out as if to put his belt on the desk and with a quick sudden movement lashed the buckle at Ty’s face. He barely saw the buckle connect before sharp pain exploded at the back of his head.

 

Nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sensation that enveloped him then. It was a new kind of pain. Maybe not even worse than shrapnel cutting into his chest, but certainly different to anything he’d ever experienced. Time was an eternity and it was a blink; he might have screamed...

 

When he came to, it took him a moment to realize he was keening and another minute to stop. He was on his knees, clutching at his hair and tears running down his cheeks.

 

Someone was talking somewhere above him, and Tony let the gentle tone wash over him, soothing, until the meaning of the creepily possessive words penetrated his mind and he remembered what had happened. He had to force himself to pry his hands out of his hair and sit up straighter. A dull pain like a distant roar was filling his head, and it was difficult to hear what was going on in the vicinity.

 

He glanced up and saw Tiberius pressing a tissue to his cheekbone.

 

“You back with me, darling?” he inquired. “I wish you wouldn’t make me do this to you, but I’ll teach you if I have to. That’s okay.”

 

It wasn't though. Tony could see it on Ty’s face, in the set of his jaw and the tightness in his shoulders. That was good. It meant that Tony could still rattle him.

 

He looked around only to see his things and also Ty’s jacket gone. The room was as empty of any personal effects as when they’d first entered it. Some time had definitely gone by, but how much, tony had no idea. At least long enough for Ty remove the clothes and come back, and Tony had no recollection of any of it. Slightly panicked, he shot a look at the observation window, but Steve, suspended and unconscious,  was still behind the glass.

 

“You don’t have to worry about him,” Ty said with a sneer plain heard in his voice. “He’s no longer your concern, and soon he will be of no consequence at all.” Ty made a dismissive hand gesture. “Better worry about yourself, my dear Mark Antony. I hope you realise that what you just experienced via the chip, was only a fracture of what I gave _him_ , because I know what you can take, and I care about you.” Looking at him meaningfully, Ty continued, “So you better say thank you.”

 

Tony ignored him and tried to get up. Correction, did get up, despite his wobbling limbs and the nausea in his throat.

 

“Ready then?” Ty’s smile was cold and unforgiving, and with a startlement Tony realised that it was the same everyday smile that he’d always mistaken for polite.

 

“Ready for what?”

 

“Your audition, of course. The lover boy there is going to wake up soon, and you're going to tell him how little you actually think of him and make him _believe_ it.”

 

A deep pit of dread opened in Tony’s gut, as he watched Ty taking a small older model smart phone from his trouser pocket and sliding it over the desk between them. “You’re going to read from here, and do it convincingly. I’m not going to be here, but I’m going to see and hear you both.”

 

Tony picked the phone up and stared at it. Even if it didn’t have a SIM card it was still a piece of technology. Not that he knew how it could help at the moment, but he was good at ignoring obstacles in the first stages of planning.

 

“If you fail to do what I want,” Ty continued, “say anything I haven't told you to say, or deviate from what I've told you in any way, it will be your precious _Steve_ who will pay the price of my displeasure. Do you understand?” Ty was perfectly poised again, his hands in his pockets.

 

“Perfectly, oh Caesar,” Tony sneered, only to see a tiny movement from the corner of his eye. Horrified, he turned to see Steve, still unconscious, twitching in his bonds.

 

“Stop,” he said quickly. “Stop, you’ve made your point, I get it.”

 

“Not so tough now, is he? Your Captain America.”

 

“Ty, please.” The words came as if through a grinder. “Stop.”

 

“Technology is always going to triumph over brute strength, you know that, Tony, don't you?”

 

“Yes, Ty. I know,” Tony tried to sound placating. “Just turn it off, please.”

 

“You sure?” Ty responded leasuredly from behind him. “Because we can go on, if you still need a demonstration of how pathetic he is.”

 

“No, no further demonstration needed.”

 

“Say it,” Ty demanded.

 

“Yes, you’re right,” Tony said through gritted teeth, desperately hoping it was enough. Helplessly, he stared at the fresh trickle of blood under Steve’s nose, and hoping that any minute now Steve’s body would stop twitching. But the silence from Ty was as deafening as the agonised convulsions in front of his eyes, and finally Tony got it.

 

“Yes, he's pathetic,” Tony said, the words physically hurting him, but Steve’s body finally stilled and that was all that mattered.

 

Breathing heavy, nostrils flaring, Tony couldn't look at Ty just yet. He had no idea he could hate anyone this much.

 

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Tony. But only for your sake, because Captain America would be so much more easier to transport in a vegetative state, and whatever highest bidder claims him, I’m sure he won’t mind. Some might even pay for him dead, if I keep him on ice well enough.”

 

Ty sounded composed now. Calm, as if he was discussing his business opportunities, which, to be fair, he was.

 

Tony closed his eyes, and tried to let Ty’s voice float over him like clouds that he had nothing to do with. The words were just sounds, like a river flowing past; nothing important.

 

And he definitely wasn’t thinking about how Ty had apparently known that Tony was in love with Steve and so as… what? Revenge? Was that why he’d let them be paired up? Just for abit? Just to dangle the possibility that Steve _might_ be attracted to Tony in front of him, and then snatch it away, all because Tony had thrown Ty out?

 

An intense stab of hurt and betrayal pierced his chest, as he remembered watching the display on his Disc slowly and agonizingly blinking from the shocking number of five years down to nothing. The knowledge that it had just been a taunt, nothing more, nothing real, that those five years had never been a possibility, was like a fresh cut into his already mutilated chest.

 

Steve had never wanted him beyond what they’d already had - a friendship and a bit of fun between the sheets. That Tony wasn’t surprised, didn’t make it hurt any less. Neither did the knowledge that if Steve had seen the supposed five year expiry date, he’d probably have been horrified.

 

Tony took a deep breath and cut himself off to tune in to what Ty was saying. God, the man loved to go on and on about Tony’s faults. In truth, in any other circumstances, Tony might even have preferred a beating, but he needed to stall.

 

When Ty seemed to have stopped, Tony raised his head and looked at the other man. “How did you know he was Captain America?”

 

“Besides you salivating all over the man?” Ty grinned as he finally took away the tissue from his injured cheekbone, and leaned against the file cabinet. “The chip wasn’t doing its job at convincing him that the implant worked. Whatever my tech managed to do, his own brain waves were four times stronger, so it was pretty obvious after seeing his stats.” He stood up and clapped his hands enthusiastically. “But enough about that. Put the phone down.”

 

The last sentence was said icily and without inflection.

 

Tony did as he was told, and was just in the middle of the realisation that Steve must have been experiencing the contradictory thoughts since the chip was first implanted, and that was why he’d asked Iron Man- when he dropped to his knees from the returned pain.

 

Strangely, the fact that it wasn't as strong this time made it worse in some ways, because unlike the last time, Tony could feel the pain come and go in pulses of irregular length, starting from the chip behind his ear and pumping like blood through his veins towards his extremities.

 

Time went by.

 

Tony slid down the wall and curling in on himself, rocked quietly.

 

Resolutely, he didn’t make a sound.

 

At some point, Tony must have blacked out, because when he became properly aware of himself again, he was lying on the floor and the teartracks had already dried.

 

He dragged himself into a sitting position and leaned against the desk atop which smartphone should still be lying. To his surprise, even though he felt dizzy, nauseous, and all his muscles were aching, his head was relatively clear and nearly free of pain.

 

Something beeped.

 

Ignoring it, Tony got up and saw Steve standing on his two feet again, steadfastly staring right ahead, stoically trying not show any weakness. With his metabolism, he was probably starving and desperately thirsty. God knew how long Tony had been unconscious this time. He might have been here about a day now, which would make it day three of captivity for Steve.

 

Tony glanced at the smartphone on the desk.

 

_I can see and hear everything in both rooms. Do only what I tell you or I will put you both to sleep again._

 

The text vanished and a new one appeared.

 

_Open the desk top drawer. Drink half of it. BTW, other drawers are all empty, so don’t bother._

 

Tony opened the top drawer and a shiver of revulsion racked his tired body. It was another can of Ty’s preferred energy drink. He opened it and drank. Tony was relatively sure that Ty wouldn’t be able to tell that he'd only drunk a third instead of a half, but he was sure that if it were a glass, Ty would want to see his instructions followed to the dot. Tony would take his little rebellions where he could.

 

The next message said:

 

_When I  type ‘start’, the mic will be on, and everything I type, you'll tell Steve._

 

Blink, and another one.

 

_Be convincing. Unless you want to watch him suffer again?_

 

Next.

 

_After all, I don't need him unconscious now._

 

Tony lowered his head in apparent supplication, but the next text said:

 

_Do you understand?_

 

Tony tried not to grimace, as he said, “Yes, I understand.”

 

_Good._

 

_Start._

 

And in his best mocking voice, Tony said, “Hi, Stevie.”

 

“Tony,” he could hear Steve’s voice now. Steve turned his face hopefully to the window, but Tony closed his eyes and said the next sentence form memory, not wanting to see how Steve’s expression changed.

 

“How do you like your new accomodations?” he went on. “Like them? I designed them myself.” Tony had to stop to breathe. Easy. Steve couldn’t hear that Tony was struggling. “Ty thought that you might like them less than what you had at the mansion, but I told him that you’ve had worse.” _Coward_ . Tony was such a coward. Why was he _doing_ this? “Remember the tiny apartment you had with your mom? And the crappy shoebox you shared with Bucky?”

 

Tony glanced up, just for a second, but it was enough to slice him with a cold certainty that Ty’s plan was working, because Steve had turned away from the mirror-glass he couldn't see through, and was staring straight ahead, his face numb and mask-like, similar to his Captain America face, and yet all too different. Ty probably couldn’t see the hurt behind it, but to Tony, it was obvious.

 

“White tile and chains might actually be an improvement, I said. At least it’s _clean_.”

 

Tony’s heart beat twice out of order with hope. Steve would know that such a cheap taunt wouldn't be something Tony would ever say, even if he'd wanted to hurt Steve.

 

He continued more calmly, “You didn’t really do ‘clean’ in your time, did you? Must be _so_ different for you now. Did you _really_ think you could _fit in_ in this century, Steve, you silly thing?”

 

And that phrase, Tony thought, was so unlike him, that Steve _had_ to know, _had_ to realize that Tony would never say anything of the sort, only it seemed that it didn’t matter. Steve was still staring right in front of himself, valiantly pretending that he didn't hear a word. And the realization that Steve apparently _didn't_ know, didn't know Tony well enough, that was… Tony didn't want to think about it.

 

“Did you think that you'd fit in with Avengers, bright people like Bruce Banner and me?” he continued, hopelessly. And hurt, he sounded vicious. “An old relic like you? A man with a plan for how to hit really hard? We've got weapons for that nowadays, you know. Fighting with a shield - isn’t it a bit old-fashioned?”

 

But Steve knew that Tony loved that shield. He _knew_ it! Tony felt as if with his eyes, he was drilling holes through the glass and into Steve’s profile, but of course, Steve couldn't see him.

 

Feeling utterly powerless, he continued, “And did you really think that your outdated wooing techniques would actually make anyone swoon? We had a great laugh about it, Ty and I.” Tony was trying to take deep breaths, but his heart still stuttered, and for a moment he thought it would stop, but it was all in his head this time, so after a moment he continued, “Discussed who to pair you up with next. Remember Tina? Yeah, we just wanted to see you squirm.”

 

It didn’t matter any more why Tony was doing it. He loathed himself with fierce burning hatred, perhaps even more than he loathed Ty. Because Ty might have typed those things up, but it was Tony who was actually hurting Steve.

 

He read the next message, and put the phone down. Slowly, Tony shook his head. He wasn’t going to continue. He wasn’t. But then, for a split second, a spike of pain seemed to wrack Steve’s body and Tony hurried to read on.

 

“Remember what I told you when you tried to suck me off? Well, I might’ve embellished a bit. It was a good try, though. Solid ten points for enthusiasm there. I mean, I did get off, because one warm hole is just like any other, after all.”

 

Tony thought he would stop speaking; he had no idea how the hideous lie even crossed his lips. He was going to shut up right this moment, but he didn’t. He didn’t, because he couldn’t. He wanted Steve to be well enough to escape. Tony would give anything for Steve to escape, even if it meant that Steve would never speak to him again, so he continued.

 

“You should work on your technique though, because that pretty body you have, is the only thing anyone would ever appreciate in you, Steve Rogers, and who knows how long that’s going to last. We both know you're still as small on the inside as you always were.”

 

Tony felt his face crumple, but Steve didn't even react. Tony took a deep breath to prepare for the next torturous thing that his lips were going to inflict on the person he loved and admired the most, when Steve turned back to the window and very deliberately started speaking.

 

“You can stop speaking now,“ he said in his best Captain America voice. “I don't know if you’re threatening him to do this, or if it's the implant that's forcing him, but you can stop that now, because the words are empty without intent and the man I know Tony Stark to be, would never do the things he just claimed to have done, nor would he ever say those cruel words even if he believed them. This is not how you're going to break me.”

 

He paused for effect and Tony realized he was shaking with relief, his eyes suspiciously moist. Even though he couldn't allow himself such a display of feelings, he couldn't tear his eyes away from Steve. Because Steve _knew_ , had known, and in his righteous anger, he looked magnificent. In the wake of relief, though, came dread of what now, because there was no way Ty would take this lying down.

 

What the hell was Steve _thinking_?

 

Steve answered this question by turning his profile back to the window and saying, “I suggest, Mr Stone, you come in here and tell me what it is that you want yourself. Maybe we can negotiate? But don't think for a second that I will ever cooperate if you hurt Tony.”

 

It would’ve been impossible for Tony to love Steve more than he did at that exact moment, and he didn’t even care that Steve didn’t love him back and probably never would. Tony just felt-

 

Consciousness came back slowly. An awful pulsing sensation was squeezing the back of his head, and his shoulders were aching. There was no strength in his legs, and for some reason he couldn’t feel his hands. Someone was calling his name, and Tony grunted in response. Tried to open his eyes.

 

It was light, so light it hurt his eyes and made everything blurry. Bile rose to the back of his throat, and he realised that he had to get his feet underneath him or he’d vomit all over himself. Tentatively, he raised his head and planted his feet more firmly.

 

“Tony, are you alright?”

 

Tony's eyes focused.

 

“Steve?” he croaked.

 

His hands twitched in the manacles that held his arms up at a forty-five degree angle, just like Steve's. And while Steve was still in his T-shirt, Ty had wanted Tony shirtless.

 

“Thank God! You were out for about an hour. How do you feel?”

 

Tony blinked at Steve who was now directly in front of him, still tied up the same way, but feet flat on the floor, thank god.

 

“I’m sorry about… back there…” He jerked his head towards the mirror window.

 

“It’s fine, Tony. I know it wasn’t you.” Steve flashed him a sympathetic smile as if Tony was the one who’d been hurt. “How do you feel though? Did he hurt you?” He raked over Tony’s sami-naked form.

 

“Not really. Feel a little nauseous, but I'm fine. You?”

 

“I'm alright.”

 

Tony grimaced at the lie; Steve had been dry-swallowing for a while now. “He give you water ? Anything?” he still asked.

 

“I've gone without longer, don't worry about it,” Steve answered, with thirst plain in his voice.

 

_I'll kill him_ , Tony thought. _I swear to God, I'll kill him_.

 

Instead of voicing it, though, he looked down and noisily breathed through his nose.

 

“Know what he wants?” Steve was economical with his words.

 

Tony took a moment more to compose himself. “World domination, probably.”

 

Steve gave a dry snort, but before he had a chance to respond, the door opened and there Ty was - happy as a spring flower, and Tony had to force himself to not stare daggers at him.

 

“So how are my favorite heroes doing?” For a moment Tony's heart wanted to jump out of his chest from panic, but then Ty continued, “I'm sorry, hero and a… helper?”

 

Tony didn't much care about the mockery, but Steve bristled.

 

“Tony is essential to the Avengers initiative. He is a hero.”

 

Tony tried not to be embarrassed by Steve’s obviously sincere words, but the idea of a spoiled rich boy throwing money at problems was so far from heroic that Ty’s delighted laugh made Tony go hot all over.

 

“Look at him blush,” Ty told Steve conspiratorially. “Did you know that he'd always had the hugest crush on Captain America as a boy? Had a little aluminum shield and everything?”

 

Tony didn't have to look at Steve to know that now he, too, was embarrassed.

 

“What do you want?” Tony demanded.

 

He realized that there was no talking Ty down now. They had to overpower him somehow, while being tied up and chipped like a pair of puppies.

 

Determinedly, he was trying not to think about the fact that he still believed in the Disc. He knew it must be a lie, but-

 

“Don't tell me it actually is world domination,” he cut his own thoughts short. “Because that would just be funny. Did you have a Red Skull mask as a kid?”

 

“Don't be ridiculous, Mark Antony, darling. Red Skull was hideous.” He stepped close and embraced Tony from behind. “I want a great number of things actually.” Tony shivered from revulsion as Ty nuzzled him behind the ear where his implant was. Tony had to turn away and close his eyes.

 

“Let him go.” Steve's voice was like steel. “You let him go and you can do whatever you want with me. You have my word.”

 

“Don’t!” Tony snapped, opening his eyes and looking straight at Steve. “Don’t try to be noble. Ty won’t keep any of his promises.”

 

A sharp pain made him yelp and jerk away from where Ty bit his jaw.

 

“Funny,” Ty said in his fake amused tone, “how readily you badmouth your ex to your other ex.” Ty’s arms low on his waist made Tony’s skin crawl. “That's an unexpected bonus, though, to see that Captain Rogers, here, cares about the poor billionaire boy with a nerdy crush, too. You do, don't you?”

 

“Just name your terms,” was all Steve said, but he sounded weirdly strangled, and that was the moment Tony knew with devastating clarity that Steve _knew_ and had most probably always known how disproportionate Tony's feelings really were.

 

Humiliation filled the whole room where, with everyone knowing, his pathetic crush had somehow suddenly become a very public knowledge.

 

He'd thought he'd been cautious with letting it show (maybe not to Pepper - she’d always seen through him), but now it turned out that Steve had just been kind all this time.

 

He would never be able to look Steve in the eye ever again.

 

Ty hummed thoughtfully. “My terms? Sounds like you’re under impression that there's any way you can contribute.”

 

He stroked over Tony's ribs and stomach and Tony couldn't help but hold himself rigid.

 

“Now, now, Tony, dear. Do you not remember what happens when you don't cooperate?”

 

Tony gritted his teeth and looked down as he let himself be petted. Ty nuzzled the crook of his neck, bit the skin there and Tony flinched.

 

He didn’t think it could get any more humiliating, until Steve growled, “Leave. Him. Alone.”

 

“Don’t,” Tony uttered quietly. “Just don’t, Steve. It’s not worth it.”

 

Ty hummed again. “That’s right, Anthony, dear. I’m not your enemy, isn’t that right?”  Grabbing a fistful of Tony’s hair, he dragged his head back to expose his throat and hissed in his ear, “Answer me!”

 

Tony swallowed and told himself that defiance was not worth Steve’s pain. “Yes, you’re right,” he answered, his throat still tight.

 

In the periphery of his vision, he saw Steve fume.

 

“You see, Captain? Tony here can contribute his acquiescence, whereas you, my dear Captain, are just going to have to hang on -” he grinned, “-and wait for unconsciousness to come. Then let yourself be sold like a good comatose supersoldier.”

 

It was ingenious, Tony had to admit. Why take the risk of playing around with sedatives when you can just starve the serum?

 

“The blood samples you so generously allowed me to take will be auctioned off at a later date, so I'm good, but thank you for the offer, Captain.”

 

“And Tony?”

 

Ty pressed himself even closer and to his disgust, Tony realized that Ty was at least half hard.

 

“Tony,” Ty replied with relish. “I will keep. At some point I'll probably code his implant to redirect his implicit trust of the Disc onto me.”

 

Tony thought he would throw up. “It’ll never work,” he said harshly. “Not after you've told me. Not after what you've done to Steve.”

 

“Well, maybe not right away,” Ty opined carelessly, let Tony go and walked towards the door. “But I've got years, after all. And after a while, you'll just know how very much I care about you, Tony.” Ty ran his fingers through Tony's hair, kissed him on the mouth and stepped away. “I'll prove it to you,” were his parting words before he closed the door behind him.

 

The ominous words didn't make Tony feel better, and in order to look anywhere but at Steve, he stared at the closed door.

 

“It's going to be okay, Tony,” he heard Steve say. “We're going to get you out of here.”

 

Tony would not accept pity, nor was he going to be treated with kid gloves. He knew the situation was beyond bad.

 

“Do you know how long you've been here?” he asked in a matter-of-fact tone, tugging at his bonds. He wasn't surprised when they didn't budge.

 

Steve thought a minute. “Well, it's about two in the afternoon now, so, thirty-two hours, give or take.”

 

Tony had no reason to doubt Steve's internal clock. “Eight hours for me then.” He tried to see the locking mechanism on his manacles. “Pepper is going to be looking for me soon. You?”

 

“I skipped lunch with Jan,” Steve said, but something in his demeanor told Tony that he was lying.

 

“Any idea on how to get out of here?” Another filler, while he craned his neck to determine that no, he couldn't get out of these cuffs even if he broke his thumb. Not that he would be able to break it, given how he was suspended.

 

“Oh several,” Steve said in a careless voice meant to reassure their captor, but which, unfortunately, also meant ‘none executable right now’.

 

Tony nodded, but didn't have a chance to elaborate, since at that moment the door opened and Ty was back.

 

“Phase one of indoctrination, Tony. Any last requests? I could perhaps spare you the most of it, if you apologized. No? Suit yourself.”

 

There was something behind his back and when the heavy leather bull whip was revealed, Tony couldn't hide his shocked flinch.

 

“I see you remember my little demonstration?” Ty reminded him of the day they’d taken turns destroying some of the gym equipment with the same whip Ty was brandishing now. “Well, I told you I wanted to try it on you someday.”

 

Tony didn't bother to tell him that he was an idiot who'd never really taken Ty seriously when he talked of such cruelties. He swallowed, his heart in his throat as he thought of the damage a heavy whip like that could do, and he wasn't all that sure Ty would be careful with his internal organs.

 

“I'm not that much into pain,” he joked on reflex.

 

“I know, baby, I know.”

 

Almost lovingly, Ty put the torture implement on the floor in front of Tony and started to remove his tie and jacket.

 

A part of Tony still expected Ty to laugh it off and throw the whip aside as he had the last time, but then he remembered how much he'd already allowed Ty to get away with, thinking that Ty couldn't possibly have meant for it to pierce his soul like that, only to now realize that he had in fact meant to hurt him just as much as it had, and more.

 

Now Ty was just taking it to the physical level, that was all.

 

Shaken, Tony raised his eyes to Steve’s, only to find his face fierce with determination.

 

‘We'll get you out of here,’ his eyes seemed to be saying, only it was a lie. Tony knew how to recognize wild desperation, and Steve wasn't a very good liar anyway.

 

Suddenly, Tony felt weak. Purely, physically weak, but also weak in mind. Thoughts came one a second. Irregular and sluggish. Data through a dial-up.

 

He was shutting down.

 

Steve was saying something, but Ty was finished with his preparation, and didn't seem to be paying him any mind. He picked the whip up and smiled at Tony.

 

Tony stared back. He'd withstood torture before. Why was he so scared now? So _pathetic_?

 

And the little boy in him answered, _Ty was supposed to be my friend_.

 

Slowly, he raised his gaze straight at Ty and as the burning rage filled him, he quietly spat, “Fuck you, Tiberius Stone. Fuck. You.”

 

Ty smiled coldly. “I think I will make him pay for that one. But later. For now, I want him-” Ty jerked his head towards Steve. “-to enjoy this too.”

 

There was no time for Tony to regret his defiance, because Tiberius was already behind him, and Tony had to prepare himself.

 

“You don't have to do this,” Steve said in his best persuasive tone. “I'll do whatever you want, but please-”

 

You could never really prepare yourself for something like this.

 

Tony cried out.

 

Impact, pain, burn.

 

The leather hit him from behind, but wrapped around his torso, the tip cutting into his chest below the heart port casing, and to his utter horror, Tony felt the edge of his synthetic skin come loose.

 

“This whip is not as easy to control, as it looks,” Ty quipped in between lashes.

 

Impact, slicing pain, sharp burn.

 

The next hit landed lower and from the other side. Tony tried frantically to find a way to make Ty stop, or make him hit lower, because there was no way that the synthetic skin would-

 

Impact, pain, pain, burn.

 

But lower was also where his more vulnerable parts were and-

 

“I took lessons,” Tony vaguely heard. “I hope you appreciate my artistry.”

 

Impact, smell of blood, tears.

 

His real skin was broken in several places, so the synthetic tissue really had no chance. The idea of Steve seeing, knowing what it meant, was making his every breath agonizing. Or maybe it was his bruised ribs. At least he didn't think anything was broken yet.

 

Fortunately, Ty spared his kidneys, but the blow to his thighs made him lose his footing and Tony had no breath to cry out any more.

 

For a moment everything went grey, and distantly, he heard Steve try reasoning with Ty. He wanted to tell him not to bother, but the next blow made the sound that came out of his mouth incoherent.

 

Tony knew the instant the casing was revealed. Even though Steve didn't say anything, it was all over his face; the question, the controlled horror.

 

Tony couldn’t raise his head very well, but, wheezing, he did it anyway. He needed Steve to see how sorry he was for lying, even if Steve didn’t yet fully grasp the meaning of what he was seeing. Needed Steve to see his apology.

 

Ty must have sensed something going on, because he came around and abruptly zeroed in on Tony’s chest.

 

“Tony?” He come closer to peel off the remains of the clinging tissue. “What is this?” Ty sounded curious more than anything.

 

Tony didn't even look down. He knew what the metal plate that covered his heart port looked like.

 

“A prosthesis?” he tried.

 

He was so used to hiding the truth that even though a part of him wanted to blurt it out and finally be rid of the secret, he just… couldn't.

 

“A prosthesis?” Ty repeated. “A prosthesis for what?”

 

Tony turned his eyes to Steve. He was so tired of lying. “It's a pacemaker,” he said, but he could see from Steve's furrowed brow that he wasn't buying it.

 

“You're lying,” Ty accused him, because he knew Tony even better than Steve did.

 

Ty turned around to stare at Steve.

 

“You didn’t tell _him_ either, did you?” Ty stated and there was a dark satisfaction in his tone. “It's fine if you don't want to tell him,” he sneered in Steve’s direction. “But you should never lie to me, Mark Antony.”

 

‘I'll tell you later,’ Tony tried to tell Steve with his eyes, not sure if he succeeded, because Ty stepped directly in front of him.

 

“This looks a lot more than the ‘heart condition’ you told your BF about.”

 

Silently, Tony contemplated the fact that apparently nothing he'd said while chipped had remained private from Tiberius. He bit his lip to keep himself quiet, because he was _not_ going to let Ty see him upset ever again if he could help it. He turned his head away, but Ty grabbed his face, turned it back and added in a hard voice, “Tell me what it is. Right. Now.”

 

Every breath hurt.

 

“You want _…_ to train a dog... get a dog,” he pressed through his panted breaths.

 

Pain exploded in his face as Ty’s fist connected with his cheek bone.

 

By the time Tony's vision cleared, Ty’s mask of rage was gone.

 

“You want me to treat you like a dog, I will.”

 

His words were carefully measured. Ty raised his hand and sharply lashed the whip against the grey tile floor.

 

Tony couldn't conceal his full-body flinch.

 

The next lash hit him in the thighs, the whip wrapping from front to back and for a minute, Tony lost his footing.

 

“Want more?”

 

Impact, pain, pain, pain.

 

“There's always more.”

 

Through the grey haze Tony saw Steve yanking at the manacles around his raw wrists, and maybe… yelling something?

 

“Not… worth it…” he whispered, not sure if Steve saw or understood.

 

But maybe it was the reason Ty stopped.

 

“You going to talk?” Ty asked. “No? Fine, I remember promising to teach you a lesson in cooperation anyway.”

 

“No!” What did it matter now anyway? “I'll… t-talk.”

 

He felt Ty staring at him, but Tony only had eyes for Steve.

 

“It's… a port. For charging… my… heart.”

 

“Charging… your heart?” Ty’s tone was as incredulous as was Steve’s expression.

 

“Yeah, it's… made of… metal and… synthetic tissue.”

 

Steve’s eyes were wide with shock. “It's _made_ of metal  and… Tony, what happened to your heart?”

 

“It stopped… working?”

 

There was a creak of leather, and Tony glanced at Tiberius, who seemed to have permanently lost his polite expression and now wore that cold mask of fury which was more than matched in his voice.

 

“And you didn't tell me?”

 

Tony knew he should feel incredulous, but somehow Ty’s approach to the revelation didn't surprise him. He ignored Ty in favour of looking at Steve's confused and hurt face.

 

“I'm sorry,” he rasped.

 

_I'm_ _sorry for not telling you. I'm sorry for lying. I'm sorry for being less than you thought I was_.

 

But it was Ty who answered.

 

“Well, I don't appreciate being lied to.”

 

And Steve’s body went taut with pain.

 

“Ty, you son of a… bitch!” Tony tried to yell. “Stop! Stop… you… bastard!”

 

Slowly, Steve opened his eyes and looked reassuringly at Tony.

 

“It's alright, Tony,” he said quietly. “Don't give him… anything.” But his eyes were filled with pain.

 

Tony turned to their captor. “Please. You don't have to hurt him, I'll do what you want. There's no reason for you to hurt him.”

 

Ty didn't even look triumphant any more, just pissed.

 

“Oh, but there is a reason!” Ty yelled. “And you _know_ the reason, because we _talked_ about it back there!” Ty gestured towards the mirror window. “You do. As you’re _told!_ You do as you’re told, or he _suffers!_ Remember, Tony? _That’s_ the reason! The reason is that you are _insolent_ and that you _lied_!” Ty shouted into Tony’s face. “What else are you lying to me about?” Insanity burned in his eyes.

 

Steve was standing still in his bonds, conscious but unmoving, obviously very much in pain.

 

“Ty, please-”

 

“What else, Tony? What else don’t I know about you? How did you get this heart, Tony? How?”

 

This, was something that Tony could play to his advantage, maybe. He shook his head weakly.

 

“I built this...” Tony swallowed. “...armor that went… sentient.” He could see Steve swaying, but Ty just quirked his eyebrows, so Tony continued, “It gave me its… heart when my own…” He sounded deranged, so maybe Ty’d think there was no reason to punish Steve when Tony’s so out of it... But if his talking didn't help, maybe he could- “Please, Ty, can't… breathe.”

 

Ty smiled indulgently. “It's okay, just tell me, and I'll lower the chains.”

 

Ty caressed Tony's cheek, and Tony didn't even have energy to be disgusted any more.

 

“When my own… stopped working,” he finished on a gasp.

 

“See, that's better, isn't it?” Ty said gently.

 

Ty must have pushed some button or something, because both chains that held Tony's hands lengthened. Unable to carry his body’s weight, Tony's legs gave out. He crashed to his knees, and with his arms still held over his head by the chains, his breathing didn't get much easier.

 

His whole system shocked, for a bit, he must have blacked out.

 

When he came to, he was lying on his back with Ty hovering over him. Everything still hurt.

 

Well, part one of the escape plan was complete. Too bad he couldn't move, thus rendering part two impossible.

 

“You alright, darling? Ready to come home with me?”

 

Tony almost laughed. As it was, he was saving his strength for that part two. Which involved moving.

 

“Home?” he croaked.

 

Breathing was a bit easier, but all the parts of him that were touching the floor hurt something fierce, and now that he thought of it, the parts touching air hurt too. Trousers pulled on the wounds on his thighs and Tony wished he could move around to alleviate the pressure.

 

“Yes, darling,” Ty responded quietly, “Let me help you up.”

 

The brightly lit white room was spinning. Trying to get Tony upright, Ty put one arm under Tony's shoulders, but it was useless - Tony was a dead weight, his muscles not cooperating. Aimlessly, in an attempt to conceal from Ty what he really wanted to see, he let his eyes roam around the room.

 

A pang went through Tony when he saw Steve slumped and hanging limp in his chains, unconscious. Tony hoped the implant wasn’t still firing. At least there was no fresh blood on Steve’s face. In any case, Tony couldn't let himself be carted off now, without being sure if Steve would still be here by the time he could outwit Ty and return. God knew, in his current condition, there was no way Tony would be able to quickly overpower him.

 

He needed a distraction and a weapon.

 

At this point, Tony’s options really were very limited, and what was his secret worth if he got Steve killed? Less than the air Ty was breathing.

 

He turned his eyes back to Ty. “Wanna know… a secret?”

 

“A secret?” Ty’s eyes narrowed in distrust.

 

“Yes.” Everything hurt and his limbs were weak. The blood on the floor felt unpleasant on his torn skin, but Tony closed his eyes and rolled himself onto his side, away from the door and closer to Steve. “Something no one else knows.”

 

“Even him?” Ty gestured at Steve.

 

“Even him,” Tony confirmed.

 

Eyes sparkling with curiosity, Ty leaned closer to him. “What is it?”

 

Tony grasped at Ty’s shirt and with an enormous effort heaved himself into a sitting position that brought him another half metre closer to Steve. His breath in Ty’s face, the words, in the end, came easily. He needed to get them out. He would get them out and then he’d kill Ty.

 

“The thing is…” It was harder to breathe again, but not as bad as when he’d been suspended. “The thing is… I am… Iron Man.”

 

An air of surreality enveloped both of them: Ty was frowning, seemingly undecided what to think and him, feeling unmoored, his reality twisted out of shape with the words finally spoken aloud for someone else to hear.

 

Strangely, it sounded like a lie to him. Except it wasn’t, and looking Tiberius Stone in the eye, he saw the moment the realisation dawned on his oldest friend - the acknowledgement of truth, and then the enraged disbelief at the scope of Tony's deception.

 

Quicker than he thought he could, with a twist, Tony yanked his heart port’s protective plate off its hinges and sliced its sharp edge across Ty’s jugular.

 

Halfway through the swipe, Ty jerked back and threw Tony off himself and further into the lab. With an aborted grunt turned gurgle, Tony crashed into Steve’s feet, the port cap flying off to god knows where. He had only a split second to marvel at the solidity of Steve’s legs, when Ty kicked him in the gut, doubling him up.

 

For an undetermined amount of time he was torn between two impulses: his burning ribs wanted to straighten out, while his aching stomach wanted to double up again. His mouth was open in the O of a silent scream his vocal cords were unable to produce.

 

His vision cleared just in time for him to see Ty on his knees, unsuccessfully trying to fight off Steve's powerful thighs around his neck. After only a moment, his struggling slowed and he went limp. Steve only held him a second longer before his body crashed almost entirely atop of  Tony.

 

“Tony! Tony, can you hear me?” Steve was saying now, looking and sounding perfectly alert.

 

What -

 

Tony stared at Ty’s unconscious face in front of him and froze in horror. Steve must have been awake - Steve must have heard-

 

“Tony, you have to get up,” Steve was saying in his Captain America voice. “I don’t know how long he’ll be out-”

 

Or maybe not? Maybe he came to later, just in time to- Or maybe Steve was ignoring the whole double identity issue so that they could escape-

 

“Tony, are you okay? You have to get me out of these manacles-”

 

Yes. Yes! Tony grunted his agreement and tried dislodging the body lying on him, but Steve just kicked it off Tony, and reflexively, Tony started to draw in a deep breath. Sharp pain pierced into his ribs and he stopped with a wheezing sound. Breathing very carefully after that, he rolled himself onto his stomach and with shaking hands, tried feeling for Ty’s pockets.

 

“Tony, what are you- Oh, the remote for the implants? Yeah, good thinking. But make it quick. ”

 

In the first trouser pocket he checked, Tony found only one remote, so overcoming his dizziness, he heaved himself onto his elbows and, leaning over the unconscious body, rummaged for the other one. Score!

 

Breath still whistling in his throat, Tony stared at the hateful devices, filled with the malevolent desire to smash, to destroy them then and there. Thankfully, caution prevailed; it was too risky to just smash them. The devices could react unpredictably and disable Steve and/or himself before they could make their escape. So, resigned, he put them in his own pocket.

 

“Tony?” There was a painful rasp to Steve’s voice.

 

“Yeah…” Tony gasped for a mouthful of air. “Wait a mo-”

 

Tony crawled closer and grabbed at Steve’s legs, vaguely noticing the bloody handprints he was leaving on Steve’s tan trousers. On his second try, he hefted himself onto his knees, then slowly placed one foot on the floor, then the…

 

“You can do it, Tony. I know you can, almost there-”

 

To Steve’s steady stream of encouragement, Tony got his other foot underneath himself, and with what felt like an inhuman effort, he stood, clinging to Steve like he’d probably never -

 

Don’t think about it.

 

Tony stood up and reached out towards the left manacle, but clinging to Steve, he couldn’t even touch it. His right hand clutching at Steve’s shoulder, he slowly inched his left foot outward, taking care with his precarious balance while easing himself closer to his goal. Half hanging off Steve’s muscular arm, Tony’s left hand slid up to the manacle cuff, but fumbling for the catch with his weak fingers, he realised that it wasn’t were he’d thought it’d be. Inwardly panicking, his fingers circled the cuff and-

 

For a second his index finger brushed over the indentation and tried to- And again his fingers slid right over-

 

-and Ty moaned lowly.

 

Tony’s heart rate skyrocketed.

 

“Come on, Tony, you can do it,“ Steve continued with the encouragement Tony didn't deserve.

 

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m trying,_ he was chanting inside his head, dizzy with blood loss.

 

His fingers were weak, but the blood was sticky now, less slippery than before, so very carefully and with deliberate slowness he finally got his fingers behind the latch and pushed.

 

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed. He withdrew his hand from the cuff so quickly that Tony would have fallen, if Steve hadn’t managed to get his hand behind the small of Tony’s back to pull him against his body.   

 

Tony’s eyes fluttered. It was probably the last time-

 

Ty grunted, coughed and groggily started turning his head. Tony’s eyelashes fluttered and he braced himself for kicking the lights out of him, but Steve beat him to it. Ty’s whole upper body moved so sharply that for a long moment Tony was sure his skull had cracked, but then he saw Ty’s ribcage rising. Tony honestly wasn't sure if he was more glad or sad about it. So he just said, “Good.”

 

Steve nodded as if Tony had thanked him, and he was probably right.

 

“Can you walk?” Steve asked, after he’d freed his other hand.

 

Tony nodded. Of course Steve still cared; he was a decent human being. Of course he would care about getting Tony to safety, just like he would care about getting anyone to safety. It just wasn’t personal any more. Not towards Tony. The Liar.

 

Steve knew.

 

Steve knew, and he hadn’t acknowledged it with even a sentence.

 

Steve wrapped an arm around Tony and helped him to hobble to the outer room, and strangely, it was here, where Tony had spent some of the worst hours in recent memory, that Tony felt a sudden, intensely nauseating vertigo.

 

“Tony?”

 

“I'm… good. Just… Let's go.”

 

He swallowed the bile that rose up, but the vertigo wasn’t going away and his chest was tight. Steve was already half carrying him, so he only had to turn his head a bit. There was nothing in him to expel but saliva and stomach acid, but the muscle spasms wrenched agony through his injured ribs, and torqued down his chest with a slicing burn that rose into his throat.

 

Thu-thump, thu-thump, thump…

 

“I need to… I need my workshop.”

 

“You’re not going to the workshop, we’re getting you to medical.”

 

Thu-thump, thump, thu-thump.

 

“No. Workshop... Hospital can’t... help me.” Speech was getting more difficult and the dizziness was now based more on oxygen deprivation than anything else.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Thu-thump, thu-thump… thump, thump…

 

They’d reached the elevators that would get them out of the lab floor.

 

“My heart… needs charging.”

 

Steve’s head turned sharply. “What?”

 

“Yeah it’s… slowing down.” The current straight from the generator would be good.

 

“What?”

 

Steve must be beyond exhaustion. Why was he supporting Tony, not the other way around? Oh, right…

 

Thump, thu-thump, thump…

 

Thankfully, the private elevator took them straight to the garage. Tony’s gait lost the last of its firmness, and he stumbled. The car, Tony remembered, as a temporary means…

 

“Tony?” Steve asked. His Captain America voice  had never failed to force Tony get himself together, but this time-

 

Thump, thump… thump…

 

“My car… the charger… in the car.” _It could tide me over,_ he thought, his skin clammy, his chest burning so badly that the lacerations didn’t even factor in any more. He couldn’t… breathe...

 

Tony's legs gave out entirely before they could get to the vehicle, and Steve had to leave him sitting against the wall, next to an electrical outlet, while Tony directed him to the correct car and the glovebox while gasping and gulping for air.

 

Thump… thump…... thump...…

 

Steve was never going to forgive him. Lying for years, sleeping with him under false pretenses, now forcing him take part in a gruesomely bastardized half-medical, half-mechanical procedure…

 

Thump……. Thump……

 

Through a blurry haze, Tony watched Steve’s figure walk away. Why was he…? The impulse was to call him back… to raise his hand and... but his hand was so heavy.

 

Thump…… thump…...

 

His vision was darkening. Oxygen levels in his blood must be-

 

Thump…

 

*

 

Steve was never going to forgive him. That was why he hadn’t come to see Tony during the past three days he’d spent recuperating, thankfully in his own room.

 

The only upside to the whole situation was that Avengers emergency calls were automatically transferred to Tony’s private medical team, and the worst that had happened was the shock on their faces, elicited by the mess of his heart with its port, and the charging cord that was currently being kept in his bedside drawer. Yeah, he was a freak, but a rich one who could recuperate in his own bedroom, with his secrets still safe from the ignorant public.

 

So, no, Steve hadn’t come to see him, despite the fact that (as he was assured by a nurse) Steve had only been suffering from a mild case of dehydration and had left the medical long before Tony. That’s how Tony knew that Steve was unwilling to even hear him out. The other Avengers had come to see him, though, so Tony figured Steve hadn’t spilled the beans yet.

 

Maybe he intended to use it as leverage-

 

No. Steve wasn’t like that. Even if he didn’t consider Tony his friend anymore, he would never do that. If he wanted Tony off the team, he’d just say so and expect Tony to step down. Which Tony would, how could he not? But even if he didn’t throw Tony off the team, their relationship was forever changed. Well, he’d known that would happen for a long time now. He thought he’d been prepared.

 

Tony swallowed thickly and took up his tablet again. He really should just finish up his report, but his fingers just lay idly on the edges of the device as his mind drifted.

 

The first day, even through the haze of painkillers, Tony had been dreading Cap striding in and start shouting. By now, the probability of that had dropped into insignificance and Tony _wished_ Steve would just shout at him and get it over with.

 

Tony set the tablet aside and got out of bed to limp to the large picture window. The sun was high, and Tony thought of maybe sneaking down to the workshop where there were no windows or sun, but for some reason somebody always seemed to be lurking near the elevators. Last night Carol had walked into him and then just turned him around by the shoulders and walked him back to the bed; this morning it had been Simon.

 

Were they taking turns watching him? If the next time he opened the door, he saw Steve… Tony had no idea what he would do if it were Steve.

 

Despite the almost Hulk-strong painkillers, Tony’s right hip started to ache, and he tried to limp back to bed; he had to make a stop at the dresser, but he made it before he collapsed.

 

Steve’s initial non-reaction to Tony’s duplicity was seared into his memory. Tony rubbed his eyes and allowed himself to play the whole thing out in his mind again.

 

Obviously, in times of danger, during the escape, Steve had put his personal feelings aside to get Tony to do what he had to do, but now that it was all over, he clearly didn’t want to see him. Tony would have to man up and address the situation himself. He groaned.

 

Tony could guess what would happen if he did though: Steve staying away had put a different spin on things. It was clear that Cap was too angry to come and face him. His blank visage, which had periodically peeked through from behind his Captain America expression, was still at the forefront of Tony’s mind.

 

Every time he thought of the friendship he'd lost, his vision blurred, and a part of him wished he could just break down and cry. But Tony Stark was done with crying. Crying was useless.

  
  


 

Yesterday afternoon, a police detective had come to assure Tony that Ty was in custody, although not talking yet. Tony hadn’t been happy about giving a statement, but he did want for Ty to be put away for a long time, so he’d told the detective everything he knew.

 

Without getting into personal details, he’d told about Ty’s request for assistance with the ‘glitches’, his own acquiescence to receiving the implant, and then recounted the bare-bones version of the events in the Dream Dating labs. The detective had asked him some questions about his experiences about how the chip worked, and while Tony had told him as little as he possibly could, he had  promised to give him a thumb-drive with all the relevant information about how the Dream Dating was used to control and brainwash people. What he couldn’t admt to, was that he was planning on hacking the DD servers for that information.

 

As he didn’t want to be accused of being complicit in Ty’s crimes, the next part, he had to lie about. He claimed that Ty had given him access to the DD servers a couple of days ago, and that once Tony had seen what was going on, he’d confronted Ty in his labs, only to discover Steve already there, captured.

 

“I walked right into his trap.” Tony had concluded, his bitterness entirely unfeigned, even if he’d slightly reimagined the order of events. He shook his head wearily, brushing a hand across his forehead. “I was such a fool.”

 

After having to put himself back in mind of the whole experience, Tony had been so livid he’d wanted to hit something. That had been the first time he’d tried sneaking out, but when he’d opened the door, Jan had been walking by. Tony had closed the door, thinking nothing of it, until he’d opened it five minutes later to find her walking past again. By that time, Tony had felt so tired that he’d just dragged himself back to bed.

 

The implant had come out last night, but Tony still couldn’t think of the whole ordeal without nausea.

 

Early this morning he’d been finally lucid enough to breach the Dream Dating servers. To his relief, police tech monkeys had not yet managed to hack in, and it seemed that Ty was still holding out.

 

Despite already more or less having known what he’d find, it had still been shocking to see that even though the system did operate independently from human interference, Ty had left himself  a back door, and had always been able to essentially do whatever he wished. 

 

Maniacally, Tony had started combing through first his own, and then Steve’s history, to see how much their agency had been violated. Paradoxically, he'd been relieved to find how little it really was, yet still on the verge of throwing up for it having happened at all.

 

So yes, confirming what the chip had done -- manipulating him into believing that the Disc worked -- that, he’d been ready for. When the chip had come out, the only clarity he’d gained was about the process. He now saw how ridiculous his blind faith in it had been. He’d known that before letting Ty shoot the implant up under his skin, and he knew it again now. 

 

What did make him feel small and ridiculously stupid, however, was the realization of how carefully all his dates had been chosen and monitored by Ty himself. It made him sick to his stomach to realise how much he had given of himself, how hard he had worked at his relationship with Ty, only to discover that there had never been any real signs of their compatibility. Just like always, Ty had simply done what he wanted.

 

And Tony had done what Ty wanted. Again.

 

What he’d never wanted to know was that he and Steve had never actually been paired up due the Disc algorithm at all. Neither time. God only knew what Ty had thought when he’d set them up for their first date. 

 

_ ‘You and that stuffy SHIELD agent! Prim and proper Agent Rogers - as if he’d ever look at someone like you!’ _

 

All it had ever been was a  _ joke _ . A sick joke by a guy who thought that taking care of somebody was giving them unhealthy drinks and literally whipping them into compliance.

 

Everything that had happened between Steve and him was never meant to be. Not even in its physical manifestation.  And despite their agreement of setting their own terms for their relationship rather than acceding to the Disc's, it was an entirely different story if there'd never been any basis for the relationship to begin with. Surely by now, Steve regretted every moment of it. 

 

Tony was quite sure of it, because even though it was the third day of recuperation, Steve had yet to visit Tony. 

 

*

 

That evening, he was just starting to contemplate relocating his aching body from the armchair into bed, when there was a knock.

 

“Come in,” he shouted before thinking it through, because what if it were Steve?

 

No, it wouldn’t be  _ Ste _ -

 

Steve came in and closed the door behind him. For a split second Tony stopped breathing.

 

“Evening,” Steve said semi-formally in his Captain America voice, although he wasn’t even in uniform.

 

“Evening,” Tony rasped. He cleared his throat and raked his fingers through his hair and his eyes over Steve’s form.

 

He looked good. Healthy. Not that Tony expected any less. Even though Tony couldn’t see his wrists from under the long sleeves of his button-down shirt, Tony was sure they were completely healed too.

 

Tony felt old and shabby next to Steve. Foolish. Worthless.

 

“Can I…?” Not looking at him, Steve gestured further into the room. “I thought we should talk.”

 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He indicated the matching armchair at the other side of the unlit fireplace.

 

The last time he’d seen Steve was in the garage, when Tony was being loaded on a gurney and Steve had asked for the remotes.

 

“Did you destroy the remotes?”

 

Steve nodded. “Right after the chips came out,” he said, and Tony felt vicious regret that he hadn’t been the one to stomp on them, but pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. “The police are contacting all the victims to coordinate removal of their implants, as we speak,” Steve continued.

 

“Good.” He waited a beat. “So what can I do for you, Captain?” Internally he cringed at the formality of address, but didn’t really feel he had the right to correct himself either.

 

Steve didn’t seem to notice or care. “I was thinking about renewing the safety protocols,” he said, all business, and with a pang, Tony quietly felt  acceptance dipped in despair crawl all over his skin and freeze like a hard cling film, arresting his movement, his breath, cooling his insides.

 

“As I understand,” Steve continued, oblivious, “by the time we got out, Pepper had already noticed your absence, but hadn’t been seriously worried yet.”

 

Surreptitiously, Tony drew a deep breath to keep himself from suffocating. It seemed that they weren’t going to talk about it. _ At all _ . Steve wasn’t going to give him an opportunity to apologise.

 

“And you?” Tony asked, with numb calmness.

 

Unless for some mysterious reason Steve didn’t actually know. Could he not have heard? Had he disbelieved what he heard? Was in denial? But then  why wouldn’t he have come to see him before this? No. Steve knew.

 

“I didn’t actually have a lunch scheduled with Jan,” Steve responded calmly.

 

Slowly and silently, Tony let the air out of his body and tried inhaling without wheezing. He felt like everything was coming through several feet of murky water and the thick glass of his personal manhole.

 

So, no. Nobody had been looking for Captain America even after he’d been taken captive and tortured for thirty-two hours. The anger at that thought helped Tony to shatter the imaginary glass and covertly draw a deep gulp of fresh air.

 

“We should set up some regular check-in protocols for all the Avengers...” Tony said decisively, before he realised that he had no idea if he even was still an Avenger. What if Steve wanted him off the team? He was a founding member, yes, but unlike Captain America, he was also expendable.

 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Steve agreed when Tony had trailed off.

 

Tony inhaled sharply.

 

“You’re not asking me to step down?”

 

For the first time Steve’s eyes snapped to Tony. “Why would I do that?” The look in eyes was piercing. Confused. Angry. Sad, but also knowing.

 

So that was it then. The last insane hope that there had been some sort of weird misunderstanding, and that everything was still solvable, destroyed. Tony dropped his gaze.

 

“I don’t know.” Tony stilled his hands from reaching out to tap at his heart port. “I thought maybe… you wouldn’t find it in yourself to trust me anymore.”

 

There was a short pause while Steve was clearly searching for the right words, and Tony found himself holding his breath again.

 

“I do trust Iron Man,” Steve said finally, and before Tony had time to mull this over, he continued, “So it was true, what you told Ty?”

 

Not looking at Steve anymore, Tony nodded. 

 

“And you did so while thinking I was unconscious.” From the corner of his eye, Tony saw Steve nodding, as if confirming something to himself. “Thought so.”

 

There was finality to Steve’s tone, and an acute sense of grief finally descended over Tony. This was it. This was what it felt like to have the end acknowledged.

 

“To tell you the truth,” Steve mused. “I don't even know what to say about it.”

 

It sounded as if his mind was miles away, and a bit like letting go. Like every word took him further and further away from Tony. And with every word, Tony plunged into a deeper and deeper pit of dark despair.

 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

 

Steve’s head snapped up.

 

“I’m sorry I lied to you, Steve,” he said strongly, before he realised that he’d used Steve’s first name as if he had any right to it still. “I’m sorry about…” Tony swallowed the awful lump in his throat and went on almost on a whisper, “About what happened with the Disc.”

 

Steve went still. “What do you mean?” His voice was gravelly. “Exactly?”

 

Tony felt Steve’s stare on his face, but he couldn’t look up.

 

“Well… you know…” Tony inhaled deeply and continued, “for the way Ty violated you-”

 

“That was  _ not _ your fault, Tony.”

 

“And what happened during the dates-”

 

“Also not your fault, and I mostly, I enjoyed them.”

 

“And that it paired you with… me.”

 

“Also, for most of that period, the chip didn’t even work on m- What?”

 

Their speaking over each other came to an abrupt halt and, startled, Tony chanced a glance at Steve who was staring back at him with unmitigated intensity.

 

“Well… you realise that Ty basically just paired us up, because he thought it would be funny? It was just for laughs and...” Tony did not have respiratory problems any more, dammit. He did not. “We had sex,” he finished bluntly, dropping his gaze. “So, I’m sorry about… that.”

 

The pause was heavy, but not long. Steve drew in a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh. “Right. That. We did.” After a moment he added more quietly, “And I’m sorry, too.”

 

The dead silence fell like a suffocating thick blanket, and for a moment Tony couldn’t breathe.

 

After an awful pause that stretched out into a hundred years, Steve stood up.

 

“I’ll work on that protocol and let you know then,” he said coldly, already facing the door.

 

And he was leaving. And Tony was just sitting there, staring at his retreating back, opening and closing his mouth, thoughts dashing back and forth in his brain, trying to come up with something, anything to stall Steve’s walking out of his room and out of his life, for what felt like the last time.

 

“You didn’t tell our team mates.” It wasn’t a question, but he did want a response.

 

Steve stopped at the door, his hand already extended and almost touching the door handle.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s your secret, Tony.” He sounded more calm now. “You have the right to disclose it to whomever you wish and to withhold it from whomever you decide to withhold it. But Tony?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“They are your teammates, and because of that, they deserve to know. They think that you’re friends. I suggest you set them straight.”

 

And delivering this last death blow, his hand finally touched the handle and he walked out.

 

*

 

The next day, Tony just walked out, ignoring Simon’s almost physical insistence that he stay in his room. For the longest moment, he didn’t budge, right until Tony flashed him his blinding press smile, which even though obviously put-on, convinced Wonder Man that Tony was alright.

 

Getting to the elevator without limping was a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Once down at the workshop, however, he flopped onto the sofa, rubbed his face and just sat there for a while. Since he’d finally stopped taking painkillers this morning, at first, he had to negotiate his still-aching ribs into expanding wider so he could actually draw in a breath or two, but after some time, the lightheadedness dissipated, and he started thinking of relocating to the workbench.

 

At some point, Jarvis came in -- sent by Jan, no doubt -- and brought a pot of that damn calming tea, which distinctly lacked in the caffeine Tony needed to help with grogginess.

 

“It smells, Jarvis,” he tried grumbling, but it probably just came out in monotone. “Just bring me coffee, please?”

 

“I’m sorry, Sir, but the doctor specifically named caffeine as one of the stimulants you are not under any circumstances allowed to have.”

 

Jarvis was using his let’s-be-reasonable tone, but something in it sounded forced. Tony didn’t have the energy to parse what it could mean, though. 

 

“And I have to disagree with your olfactory assessment. The tea smells wonderful,” Jarvis finished quietly, depositing the tray on the nearest workbench and filling a mug.

 

_ Dammit, Jarvis _ , he wanted to say.  _ But I need the coffee _ . But he was done arguing for the day, and didn’t voice it.

 

*

 

After a week of random visits by all of the Avengers, full of aborted silences and worried glances traded above his head, Tony realised that he’d come to a decision.

 

His body mostly healed, only a couple of bandages left, he moved swiftly towards the library where the weekly Avengers meeting would be taking place in a few minutes.

 

Stepping into the room, he belatedly thought that maybe he should’ve donned the armour. But once all eyes were upon him, he realised that it would’ve been tough regardless, and maybe they deserved to see him struggle. Perhaps it was the least he owed them.

 

“Tony?” Carol exclaimed. “What are you doing here? Is Iron Man not coming?”

 

For a moment, Tony floundered, but quickly he gathered his wits and took three more steps inside. He raised his head and looked every Avenger briefly in the eye, leaving Steve for last.

 

That public speaking trick had never been this difficult before.

 

“I owe you all an apology,” he started in a strong voice, then looked away from Steve’s burning, almost expectant, gaze. “I…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve known you all since you joined the Avengers, and I’ve been proud to call you my friends. This is why it’s so hard-” he had to swallow, “-to tell you that from the very  beginning, I have been less than fully honest with you.”

 

He paused, glancing around again at the gathered people and the mix of intrigued, expectant, worried faces. Carol nodded at him, and that gave him courage to continue. She didn’t expect him to say anything bad. Not yet.

 

“It’s not a reflection upon you, or your trustworthiness,” he continued, determinedly not looking at Steve. “I trust you with my life, you know that. I trust you with the fate of the universe.”

 

“We know you do, Tony. We trust you too,” Jan said, smiling a little, but there was a worried quirk to her brow now. “But maybe, just, spit it out?”

 

Tony looked around the room one more time, steeled himself and plunged in. “There's something I've kept a secret, and perhaps I shouldn't have. For that, I apologize.” The expressions were all expectant now, and not to draw it out, Tony took a deep breath and announced,  “The truth is… I am Iron Man.”

 

Tony wasn’t sure what he had expected: disbelief, shocked gasps or angry denials. The last thing he'd ever expected though, was for Steve to step forward, offer up his hand and say, “Thank you for trusting us with your identity, Iron Man.” Then he smiled and hugged Tony.

 

Tony’s heart stuttered and suddenly he had no idea how to stand or where to put his hands. His feet were too heavy and didn’t quite move the way they were supposed to, but none of it mattered because Steve’s public and official acceptance set the tone for others.

 

“Welcome to the team,” Triathlon joked, and patted his back.

 

“I'm real glad to see you, but for the meeting? Suit up next time, yeah?” said Monica, decked out in her black and white costume.

 

Tony received handshakes, hugs and smiles. He felt shaky and misty-eyed, and answered only in monosyllabic phrases. Dimly, he realised that he would still need to have a personal chat later with at least some of his teammates, but for now, Steve’s direct gaze and sincere words were stuck in a loop in his head. A part of his analytical brain was already running simulations of what could have been going on in Steve’s mind to lead him to act as he had. Had he forgiven Tony? Was he thinking about it? Or did he do it just for the sake of the team? To keep Iron Man?

 

The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch, and everybody acted as if having Tony Stark in civilian clothes present was perfectly normal. Tony sat, listened and contemplated. Stared at Steve’s hands, his mouth and the set of his shoulders.

 

Steve never met his gaze.

 

*

 

After ‘coming out’ to other Avengers, life didn’t really get easier, but Tony found ways to cope with it.

 

He worked.

 

Occasionally, there was an assemble, a fight and then again, the lull of the workshop between the hours he spent in his office at SE. Most nights, he woke up very early due to nightmares, and instead of trying to go back to sleep, would do some work via tablet, or just descend into the workshop to do something more hands-on.

 

A couple of times, he still found himself with the momentary impulse to check the Disc for dates. These instances made him angry enough to break things. 

 

He wanted to break Ty. Slowly. Piece by piece.

 

Routinely, he worked out, only now there was no one to ogle, because Steve was avoiding sharing the gym with him as much as he was avoiding him everywhere else. The first time he tried going at a time that Steve probably wouldn’t be there, Steve was killing a punching bag.  The next time, Tony had just finished his second set at the dumbbell rack, when the door opened and Steve walked in, only to almost stagger out the moment he noticed Tony.

 

This was getting ridiculous.

 

“Steve,” Tony didn't exactly shout. “We don't have to talk if you don't want to, but there’s no reason we can’t train at the same time.”

 

Sheepishly, Steve stepped back in. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s been…”

 

“Awkward,” Tony continued for him.

 

Steve exhaled. “Yes.”

 

“Well, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna…” He gestured to the bench he’d been sitting on.

 

Steve nodded, and went on to choose himself a punching bag.

 

For a while they worked out and it wasn’t as awkward as Tony would have thought, except for the gaping wound that kept aching where his companionship with Steve used to be. Also, Tony resolutely  _ did not _ try to take a peek. All in all, the situation was painful enough that Tony finished quickly.

 

He gathered his bottle and a towel, but before leaving he stopped behind Steve and cleared his throat.

 

“Look… Steve,” he said, just as Steve turned around to quickly glance at him before determinately looking at... whatever was so interesting behind Tony. A wall? “Before I go,” Tony went on, “there’s something I wanted to… I just wanted to thank you for the official support you showed me at the last Avengers meeting.” He swallowed. “It meant a lot.”

 

Steve’s shoulders seemed to drop a notch.

 

“It was the least I could do, Iron Man,” he replied.

 

Steve was looking at Tony square in the eye now and something about that look made a shiver run down Tony’s spine.

 

Steve continued, “I’m really sorry about my role in all you’ve been through, Tony. What Stone did…” A very dark expression flitted over his face. “I can’t even imagine.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it was. We were all under the influence of that damn implant.”

 

“I wasn’t though.” Steve flopped down on the pressing bench and absentmindedly lifted a 200-pound kettlebell. “Not most of the time, at least.”

 

Tony eyed Steve idly playing around with the weight. “Did you mean what you said before - that you most of the time you enjoyed dating?”

 

Tony cursed himself the moment the words left his lips. What was he hoping to hear anyway? That Steve  _ liked _ him?

 

Steve, thankfully didn’t realise Tony had been fishing for compliments. “Yes, in the large scheme of things, the process worked for me, I think. Most of the people I was paired with, I liked very much.”

 

“Yeah?” Most. Not all. Tony thought he knew at least one that Steve might not have dated freely. He grimaced. “Not for me,” he said quietly.

 

For a brief second Steve’s fingers tightened around the kettlebell handle,  but then he visibly forced himself to loosen his grip. He uncurled his hand till the heavy weight briefly hung balanced from the tips of his first two fingers, before finally letting it down to the floor with a controlled thump.

 

“I’m sorry. For assuming. I…” He paused. “For me, Dream Dating was a bit of a different experience, and I really thought… Well. I know  _ now _ that had you been in your right mind, we’d never have been together, but at the time, I didn’t know.” As he lifted his eyes back to Tony, Steve looked distressed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tony.”

 

“No, you don’t have to feel bad about that. Never about that.” Tony stepped closer, and unthinkingly, for a moment, he put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “No, I… You were one of the few of the relationships I truly enjoyed. You don’t have to be sorry about that.”

 

Dropping his gaze, Steve shook his head. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better, Tony. I remember how you laughed at the possibility of our compatibility at that first date. You thought the whole idea was utterly ridiculous.”

 

In astonishment, Tony suddenly realised how thoughtless he’d been at that first date; while he’d been desperately trying to save face, Steve had actually taken what he’d said as a rejection. “No that wasn’t…” he floundered. “That wasn’t it at all! I was just…” He thought of how to say it. “I was just taken by surprise and... feeling awkward. I thought that  _ you’d _ think it was ridiculous, the idea of dating me, and I tried to play it off as-”

 

“Why would I find it ridiculous?” Steve’s brows were furrowed in confusion.

 

“Well…” Tony gaped a bit, not knowing what to say. “Because it’s me? Because it’s you? Why would you ever want to date me?”

 

For some reason, Steve’s demeanor shifted towards thunderous. “Why wouldn’t I want to date you? Do I seem that uptight? A prude? I-”

 

“No, no, no! It’s not that. I know you’re not… any of that. I just… Well, you are Captain America, and as far as you knew back then I was just a billionaire playboy.”

 

Steve’s expression softened, but his mouth was still in an unhappy line. Slowly, he lifted the kettlebell off the floor again and casually did a few biceps reps. “You are so much more than a rich playboy,” he said, “and I think you know that.”

 

Tony cringed at the reminder of his deceit. “Right. Well.”

 

He looked anywhere but at Steve. He wasn’t going to apologise again. There was no point. Obviously, Steve was never going to forget it, and who could blame him?

 

“I was thinking though,” Tony said. “You’re right. What Ty did was… unforgivable. And let’s be honest here, what happened between you and me was something neither of us had much control over, but… the fact that Ty involved you at all was entirely my fault. So if you want to  k ick some living shit out of me for therapy reasons, I’m not gonna say no.”

 

The silence that followed, was ominous, and after six point five seconds Tony was startled by Steve standing up and stepping closer to him.

 

“Tony, what’s wrong with you?” Steve asked, his voice full of disbelief. “You just got better. I'm not going to just ‘kick the living shit out of you’.”

 

“Well, I thought… You might feel better after venting your frustration about me lying to you at the very least.”

 

It took only a second for the disapproval to turn into what seemed to be quiet rage that made Tony want to take a step back.

 

“I'm  _ not _ going to take my ‘frustration’ out on  _ you _ ,” Steve said, pronouncing each word very precisely. “I'm not  _ Ty _ .” He spat the name. “If he were not in custody, frankly, I'm not sure what I would be tempted to do to him. He’s lucky, he got away with a concussion.”

 

The guilt churned in Tony's gut; he dropped his gaze and he was just about to apologize again when Steve continued.

 

“The way he treated you…”

 

Tony's eyes snapped up to Steve’s face. 

 

“I don't even mean the chip,” Steve continued oblivious to Tony’s astonishment. “Not that that wasn't despicable, but the way he just  _ disregarded _ you and your feelings…”

 

Tony's heart gave an extra thump and picked up the pace to gallop off into the sunset on the wings of -- entirely false -- hope. 

 

“If I were your boyfriend -- really your boyfriend --” Steve’s eyes were burning pools of molten lava now, staring straight at Tony. “I would see and appreciate how much you always try to give your best. I would cherish every moment of-”

 

Steve cut himself off and turned away. Tony aborted a step closer. Was he hearing what he thought he was hearing or was it wishful thinking? Should he just grab Steve and kiss him? Was he reading too much into words of appreciation and friendship? It didn’t sound as if Steve was talking about a hypothetical situation, but on the other hand - what were the chances that Steve would-

 

“Anyway,” Steve was saying, ignorant of Tony's inner turmoil. “I just wanted to say that it wasn’t your fault that Stone did what he did, and that I really don’t blame you.” He took a deep breath. “I'm also not angry with you for not telling me about your secret identity. I mean, I was at first, but I understand that… It’s just my own outdated notions that led me to believe our relationship was as deep on your side as it was on mine.”

 

Eyes widening in horror, Tony opened his mouth to set things right, but Steve cut him off.

 

“No, that's okay,” he said. “I meant what I said the last time we talked about it: you were not obligated to tell anyone and... I understand you had your reasons, even if I don’t like them. So it’s fine.” He gave a wry half-smile. "You're the math whiz, Tony, not me.  It's my own fault I took our friendship plus some amazing sex to mean something more."

 

Tony shut him up with a kiss. Steve froze and after mauling his rigidly closed mouth for three long seconds, Tony sprang away. 

 

“Oh, God, I'm so sorry,” he babbled. “I thought - But of course you didn't mean it like that. I misunderst-”

 

Steve’s lips were back on his and as Tony’s mouth had been open, there was now a tongue in it, shutting him up so thoroughly and sweetly that he whimpered. His hands were clutching at the cotton of Steve’s T-shirt and Steve’s arms were embracing him, cradling him as if something extraordinarily precious.

 

Tony had no idea how long the kiss went on for-

 

“Wait, Tony.” Steve was holding him at arm's length. “You did get that implant removed, right?”

 

Tony blinked. “What? Of course, I did. And even if I hadn't, the signal is down now anyway. Why would you even-”

 

Steve’s face was a mix of suspicion, surprise and awe, and Tony's brain had finally finished analyzing everything that must’ve had happened. He took a deep breath.

 

“Steve,” Tony said, coming closer and cupping Steve's face in both of his palms. He tried to look as earnest and sincere as he possibly could. “Even before the chip, before Ty, before the month was out of knowing you, really, I was ripe for your plucking. However you want me Steve, I'm there; you want a friend, a teammate, an occasional hand for stress relief or just a companion to stave off boredom during the downtime, I'm there.”

 

Tony stopped for a moment, debating whether he had courage to lay all the cards on the table, but knew in his gut that after years of deceit, full honesty was the only right course. Steve’s hopeful and giddy expression only strengthened his resolve.

 

“I was always yours, Steve.” One of Tony’s hands slid to the back of Steve’s head, fingers entangling in his short hair, and the other lowered to stroke Steve’s wide chest. Tony swallowed and willed his voice not to shake. “In whatever way you want me, but… I'm really, really hoping that I haven't misjudged the situation, because I've been known to do that. I even have this mental image of myself in this glass tube and-“

 

“Tony, stop.” Steve’s grin was so wide, it would've hurt to see, if it hadn't made Tony so happy. “Just say it.”

 

“Dating,” Tony blurted. “I’d really like to date you.”

 

Steve pressed a short, but sweet kiss on Tony’s lips. “I’d love to date you.”

 

They stared for a minute or two at each other, but in the face of such happiness, Tony didn’t experience it as awkward.

 

“Ripe for the plucking, huh?” Steve asked, his smile widening again.

 

Tony suddenly noticed that Steve's arms were around him and that his fingers were stroking the waistband of Tony's shorts.

 

“What?”

 

Impossible as it was, Steve's smile widened even more. “You were telling me about your hopes and dreams and how they all centered around a certain teammate.”

 

A bubble of laughter wanted to erupt in Tony’s chest, but he pushed it down and put on a frown. “Wonder Man?” he asked.

 

Steve laughed and retaliated with sliding both hands onto Tony's buttocks and squeezing. “Guess again, Iron Man. “

 

The sound of his superhero name coming off Steve’s lips so naturally and sweetly made Tony swallow any further jokes. 

 

“It was never about not trusting you, Steve. Never,” he vowed. “It was about not trusting myself with being able to deal with it. I know- I’ve always known that I should’ve told you. I was just a coward. Forgive me?”

 

Steve’s lips softened from his grin, but he didn't look angry or sad, just serious. “Only if you kiss me again.”

 

And Tony did. 

  


**The End**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is it. I hope you liked, and if you did, leave a comment (Komm is a candy in my language. I love candy). :)
> 
> (And also visit http://hundredthousands.tumblr.com)


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